


The Marauders and the Hollow Hill

by mmkierkegaard



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-03-09 05:29:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 61,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13474659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmkierkegaard/pseuds/mmkierkegaard
Summary: The first in a seven-part series about the Marauders' time at Hogwarts. James yearns to shame his archenemy Severus Snape, and gain the attention and affection of a certain red-haired Gryffindor; Sirius grapples with the abuse hurtled from his family and relatives; Peter struggles to fit in among his Hogwarts peers; while Remus wrestles with the weight of his long-kept secret.





	1. The Beginning

"Accio."

Through the window, she watched the mailbox rattle. A long silver thing, more decorative than most, perched precariously atop an iron rod bent strangely in different directions, like some kind of animal spent it's free time bashing its head against it. She felt herself smile. True, her little boy spent most of his time zooming around on his toy broomstick, and, yes, most of the time, he found himself smashing into the rusting rod more than he would like.

She was proud, of course, very proud of her son. Her only child. For a very long time, she feared that she wouldn't be able to bear children, but, sooner than she expected, her and her husband's wishes came true.

She remembered the day he was born. A Thursday. A drizzly March evening. She didn't remember much, besides distant claps of thunder and a baby crying. Her baby.

Her husband had burst through the double doors leading to the bedroom, delayed by the gaggle of midwives attempting to hold him back. But she had dismissed them with a weak but thankful smile. Her husband had pushed his way forward anxiously. He was worried, frightened, even. She could tell. But she watched his gaze fall on the bundle wrapped tightly in her arms, and all the age and worry seemed to melt from his face. He had looked younger than he ever had.

She felt herself grin wider at the memory of passing the baby to her husband's arms. A tiny thing. Chubby arms, bright hazel eyes. Like his father's. She recalled gently stroking the baby's head. Delicate, thin hair grew there. Black. Like his mother's.

Her husband smiled with delight and excitement, watching the baby stare up at him, cooing softly. Then looked up at his wife, crying silent tears of joy.

She met his gaze, crying too. "We have a son, Fleamont," she remembered whispered. Then he had kissed her, whispering her name in her ear, "Euphemia darling, thank you, thank you, Euphemia…" She had returned the kiss, for she was equally grateful. For a moment, they just sat there, embracing, sobbing into each other's shoulders. The rain pattered lightly on the windowpanes, while the baby let out a cry, seeking some kind of attention.

Finally, Fleamont had pulled away, and glanced down at the child in his arms, who was waving his fat fists frantically. "He's an energetic little fellow, isn't he?" he had said.

She remembered smirking at him. "Just like his father," she replied fondly.

He looked up at her again, eyes sparkling with the tears that shone there. "You're so beautiful," he had murmured, reaching out to stroke her face. The baby wailed again, clawing at Fleamont's jacket, who glanced down at the baby in surprise. "You won't give us a moment's peace, will you?" The baby howled again.

Grinning slightly, Euphemia had eased the child back into her lap. "Not for a while, he won't." She watched affectionately as the baby yawned, stirring a bit in the blankets. "What shall we name him?" Her gaze had flickered up to her husband's. "After your father?"

"Henry? No," Fleamont had said immediately. Then he chuckled. "To be honest, I've never really liked the name." He paused for a moment, keeping his eyes fixed on the child in her lap. His son. "What about your father…"

"James?" She had been startled for a second, then relaxed. Almost relieved. "James," she had said again, in a light whisper. She reached out and grasped her husband's hand. James. Their son had a name.

James Potter.

She felt something warm and wet slipping down her cheek. A tear. She was crying.

Quickly, she wiped it away. Their son. It was a miracle, of course. They had almost given up hope on ever having children. They had been prepared to accept that the mansion Fleamont had inherited from his father would almost always be empty. No longer.

James grew quickly. He was a skilled little boy, quite gangly, but fast, both on his legs and on a broomstick. Neither his eyes nor his hair changed color; his eyes remained as bright as ever, while his hair seemed to grow alarmingly fast in different directions. She had difficulty making it lie flat.

But he was their son. Their only son. With hazel eyes behind thin glasses, a big smile, and very untidy jet-black hair. James Potter.

The mailbox shuddered again, this time, spitting out a series of envelopes that zoomed flew towards her in a great cluster of parchment, each letter attempting to reach Euphemia first.

Sighing, she hurried towards the window and threw the window open. "Alright, one at a time, one at a time!" she shouted. Promptly, the letters halted, rearranged themselves according to when they had been delivered and continued towards the window in a floaty, dreamy fashion as if nothing had ever happened.

"That's better," she muttered, seizing the first letter and tearing it open. A magazine, for Sleekeazy's hair potion. She rolled her eyes. Henry Potter, Fleamont's father, had invented the stuff, and they received ads and notifications about the potion almost daily, despite the fact that Henry had sold the company almost ten years ago.

She tossed the magazine aside, and ripped the next one open. From her sister. Euphemia felt herself smile as she scanned the letter. Then sealed it again and stuffed it into her pocket. She would reply later.

Two more Sleekeazy magazines. A letter from the Ministry for Fleamont. A large mysterious envelope addressed in green ink…

Addressed to James Potter.

She felt her breathing quicken as she flipped the envelope over, her heart practically in her throat. Could it be…?

The Hogwarts crest stared back up at her. A swooping feeling in her stomach made her swell with pride and glee. In all her eagerness, she was filled with a desire to open the envelope and read it herself, but she instead stowed the letter in her pocket. They would read it together, as a family, once Fleamont got home from work. But she couldn't stop smiling as she turned away from the window. Her little boy… going to Hogwarts at last.

Further north, a similar situation was occurring. But not nearly as pleasant.

"Your Hogwarts letter arrived today," Orion Black said stoically, glancing over at his son from across the table. The boy didn't even look up as he pushed the vegetables around and around on his plate. He seemed extremely disinterested.

Orion cleared his throat, and exchanged a dark look with his wife, Walburga, who just rolled her eyes. "Your Hogwarts letter arrived today," he said again, a bit louder.

The boy sat upright, so fast his elbow sent his pumpkin juice flying, staining the drab wallpaper a deep orange. Shaking his long dark hair out of his eyes, he shouted, "Let me guess. You've burnt it. Or you're going to send Regulus to Hogwarts pretending it's me. I expect you will."

Regulus, the boy's younger brother, flushed a deep maroon and picked at his sprouts, pretending he had heard nothing. His mother, however, practically swelled with fury. "How dare you speak to your father that way!" she screamed, raising her hand as to slap the boy across the face. Orion spoke quickly.

"No!" he boomed; Walburga caught his gaze and lowered her arm, her face still contorted with anger. Orion turned once again towards the boy. "No, we haven't burnt it - and we are not going to send Regulus to Hogwarts a year early." His tone suggested otherwise. "You're going to Hogwarts this year."

The boy's eyes widened, then narrowed with suspicion. Something wasn't right.

"Here is the letter," Orion said quickly, reaching inside his robes, and pulling out a slightly wrinkled envelope addressed in green ink. The boy took it and read in wonder.

Sirius Orion Black

12 Grimmauld Place...

He wasted no time. Hastily, he flipped over the envelope and tore open the seal, which, surprisingly, hadn't been broken yet. He unfolded the letter as fast as he could and eagerly read aloud.

Dear Mr. Black,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all the necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl no later than July 31st.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Sirius didn't even bother to hide a shout of excitement. Finally! Off to school, off to Hogwarts, off to a magical place where his despicable parents could torment him no longer. If he shut his eyes, he could just imagine it... he could spent Christmas and Easter there, away from his family... perhaps the headmaster would even let Sirius stay for the holidays! He could only dream of it. Seven blissful, uninterrupted years away from the disgusting monstrosity his parents called home...

"Sirius," Orion muttered impatiently. Then shouted. "SIRIUS!"

Sirius nearly fell out of his chair, still grasping his Hogwarts letter like it was a lifeline. "Yes, father?" Cool, collected. He might've never been startled.

"Now, before we head to Diagon Alley and buy your things," Orion started. "I want to set a few things straight."

Sirius tensed, rigid in his seat. Something was wrong. Very wrong. It tended to be that way when his parents were so nice. Especially to him.

He watched his father twirl his fork between his fingers. "First of all, you shall not accommodate or associate yourself with blood traitors, half-breeds, Mudbloods, or anything of the sort," Orion began.

"Especially Mudbloods," Walburga hissed, shuddering obviously.

Sirius's mouth was a thin line. He bit his tongue, but said nothing. His parents had gone on about this for ages, it seemed, perhaps their whole lives. They were, the whole Black family, in fact, purebloods, which meant they didn't have a single drop of Muggle (non-magical) blood in their veins. And they wanted to keep it that way. For some reason, they seemed to think that having even the tiniest bit of non-magical blood was a disgrace to wizard kind. "Half-bloods are to be avoided," his mother always said. "And Mudbloods should be ignored entirely." Perhaps, if his mother had his way, she would have all the half-bloods tortured, the Mudbloods killed, and all the Muggles utterly destroyed. And he couldn't even imagine what she would do to the Squibs. God knows.

The pureblood tradition had been passed down through generations of Blacks, and not once had a single person broken the wizard line. Not once had a single half-blood, Mudblood, or Muggle entered the Black family tree.

His mother and father were determined to carry on this tradition.

And Sirius was determined to desecrate it.

All this ran through his mind as he turned to face his parents. "Yes, father," he agreed solemnly.

"You are to treat the Hogwarts teachers and staff with the utmost respect, unless their blood-status proves otherwise," his father ordered, staring down at his son.

Sirius stared right back. Fat chance. He had an eye for pranks, a talent for trouble, as it was often called. He would treat the Hogwarts professors the way he thought they deserved to be treated. And, by God, if any of the teachers were anything like his parents, he would make sure that they would retire in less than six months.

He smiled sweetly at his father. "Alright."

At that moment, his mother jumped in. "And you must be sorted into Slytherin," she demanded, an almost evil smile forming on her lips. Sirius felt the smile melt from his face; he saw his mother sneer distastefully. "Oh, yes," she snarled. "Every single person in the Black family has been sorted into the Slytherin for the past one hundred years. You will not break this tradition, do you understand me?"

Sirius's mind raced. Of course he would break it, along with every other Black tradition that ever existed. What could he say? It was practically his destiny. But.. perhaps this would be something that he couldn't change. His family's house. Slytherin. Every single person in the Black family. Slytherin. One hundred years. How could that be something he could change? He was just a kid. A kid whose parents hated him and whose whole family despised him.

Sirius felt himself grin, and he shoved some potatoes into his mouth. It was perfect. But what house to be sorted into? What house would embarrass his parents the most...?

His grin widened as he swallowed. If he could just convince the Sorting Hat to put him in Gryffindor...

Another letter was received just south of London.

"Peter! PETER!" A crash and a bang as a short, round woman with pale blonde hair ascended the steps of her cottage. It was a fairly-sized cottage by normal standards, with too many rooms and not enough windows. It seemed large, sometimes, especially during the holidays, since there was just Peter and his mother to occupy it. Peter's father had abandoned the family some time ago, but they had done well ever since. Better than they thought they would.

"PETER!" His mother shouted again. Furtively, Peter dashed out of his room towards the stairwell, smashing into almost everything as he went. Peter was clumsy, and both walked and ran heavily, due most likely to his size and statue. He was plump for his age, not fat, with small watery eyes and mousy brown hair. Peter often stated that he was unhappy with his appearance. His mother often replied that she thought he looked adorable.

Finally, he slammed up against the railing, panting hard. "What is it, mum?"

"There's a letter for you!"

"A what?"

"A letter!"

"A WHAT?"

"A - oh, for goodness's sake-" He saw her yank something out of her pocket - her wand, he guessed - and point it at the flat, white object she was holding in her opposite hand. Abruptly, it zoomed upward with the speed of a bullet and smacked Peter hard in the nose.

"Ouch!" he hollered, stumbling backwards and landing hard on his backside. The white thing (an envelope) however, fluttered gracefully to the floor beside him.

Swearing under his breath, he picked it up. Addressed to him. Curious. He almost never got letters. He turned it over. A strange seal was stamped there, a large "H" surrounded by four animals: a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake. Peter frowned at it, and racked his brains. Nothing there. But he swore he had seen that seal before...!

Eventually, he gave up. With a loud snap, he broke the seal and tugged out the letter.

Dear Mr. Pettigrew...

With every word, his eyes grew wider and wider, until finally, he couldn't contain himself any longer. He let out a scream of mirth and sprinted downstairs to celebrate with his mother.

The final letter was to be delivered out west, to a tiny little cottage on the outskirts of one of the largest forests in Great Britain. Unlike the Pettigrew's cottage, this cottage was practically a shack. There were only six rooms, and a small basement dug out below the house. From the outside, it looked about ready to fall apart. Made of wood and bits of metal, it gave the impression of a very tired and very exhausted man that was ready to give up. Just like the man who was living there. Lyall Lupin.

Lyall sat outside the door on the dewed grass, not bothered by the wetness of it. As long as there was no one around him. No one at all. He just wanted to be alone.

He tugged his pipe out of his jacket pocket, and, instinctively, reached for his wand in order to light it. Then stopped himself. No. He and his family were using Muggle things now. Muggle devices. Uneasily, he brought himself to bring out a pack of matches instead. He struck one against his boot and lit his pipe, watching the flame flicker before his eyes.

"Fascinating," Lyall heard himself say, as he gazed at the fire, watching it dance. Almost like it was taunting him.

Monster, monster, monster, monster-

With one breath, he extinguished the flame. But he knew it was right. He was a monster. Along with his son.

Forcefully, he brought the pipe to his mouth, inhaling the thick fumes of tobacco. His life was ruined. His son's life was ruined. Only because he had tried to do the right thing. He exhaled; smoke furled from him lips into the colourless sky. He watched it dissipate, angry with himself. He had tried everything, but there was no cure. No spell, no potion that could rid his son of that... disease. It had contaminated him. It would drag him down, stay with him. Forever.

Lyall puffed on his pipe again. He felt cursed. His only son could never be fully healthy. He could never go to school, he could never make any friends, real ones, anyway. And with every year, his son's condition worsened. Now, at age eleven, he couldn't even leave the house. No one could see him. Then they might suspect, and Lyall, his wife, and his child would have to pack their things and move away, for the fifth time in three months.

He hates you, Lyall told himself, watching the smoke vanish again, blending in with the clouds hanging over him. He doesn't know, a voice in his head told him nastily. Lyall shook his head, trying to clear his mind of these thoughts. He couldn't argue with himself, not now, not with everything going on-

At that moment, he noticed something white hovering near the edge of the forest. He squinted. A figure. A person. How long had they been standing there? Was it a Muggle? Or, worse, a wizard, who knew of his son, Remus's condition? Had he come to drive them away?

Remus! Lyall thought. Hastily, he pushed himself to his feet and sped into the house, shutting the door firmly behind him. With a wave of his wand, a series of complicated locks locked themselves.

"Lyall?" His wife, Hope. At his side in seconds. He would've thought she would be in tears by now what with everything that had happened, but her face was surprisingly set. "What is it?"

"Dad?" His son called from the other room. "What's going on?"

Lyall grabbed his wife's arm. "Get Remus to the basement."

"What's happening?" Hope was bewildered.

"Someone - outside - watching us - get Remus to the basement," Lyall panted, all in one breath. He was suddenly exhausted.

Hope protested. "Lyall, it was only yesterday... he's very weak-"

"Get him to the basement NOW!" Lyall roared. White-faced and worried, Hope obeyed. Lyall watched his wife rush away. He knew she would've argued more, but they didn't have the time; he often didn't always have enough explanations. She was a Muggle, after all, and sometimes didn't understand all the things that went on in the Wizarding World... but he loved her with all his heart...

Through the window, he could see the figure advancing. With the glass dirty and cracked as it was, Lyall could make out only so much. Pale clothes. White hair and beard. Brandishing a wand.

A wizard! From the Ministry, perhaps. Coming to take his son away from him. Lyall's grip tightened on his wand. He couldn't. He wouldn't let him.

Bang. Bang. Bang. Pounding at the door. Lyall stayed where he was, pointing his wand one-handed at the center of the door. "Leave!" he shouted with as much bravery as he could muster; his voice cracked.

"Just go, and you won't be harmed. I say this for your own-"

Crack. Startled, Lyall almost dropped his wand. Then listened. Silence. Furtively, he hurried towards the window to glimpse the wizard standing outside his door.

No one. Nobody there.

Remus's voice drifted in from what Lyall guessed was the sitting room. "Would you like a crumpet, sir?"

Reading aloud again. Damn the boy! Won't he listen to his father for once and just do as he's told? Didn't he realize that he endangered everyone around him, every second, every minute, every day-

A different voice, unfamiliar to Lyall. "Why yes, Remus, thank you."

Lyall's heart pounded so heart, bruises must've been forming on his chest. Someone else in the house! How? There was no back door. All of the windows were locked and barred; he had heard no sound of breaking glass anyway. Not to mention that the whole cottage was surrounded by powerful protective enchantments! Lyall advanced cautiously, carefully peering into the sitting room. Horrified, he saw a tall, white-haired stranger in a pale traveling cloak sitting on the floor with his back to Lyall. Nearby sat a plate of half-eaten crumpets, the ones Hope had just finished making that morning. And facing the stranger was Lyall's son, Remus, lying on his stomach and staring at the space a couple inches in from of him. Anxiously, Lyall shifted a few feet... in order to see what he was looking at...

Gobstones. Lyall's mouth fell open. A stranger and Lyall's son were on the floor of the sitting room, eating crumpets and playing Gobstones.

Lyall let out a squeak of surprise; Remus's head was up in a flash. "Dad!" he exclaimed, both in relief and surprise.

The stranger turned round. Lyall's heart leapt up into his throat...

"Dumbledore?" he thundered, nearly falling over from surprise and suspense. The stranger just smiled, his eyes twinkling cheerfully behind his half-moon spectacles.

"Lyall!" he said, taking a step towards him with his hand outstretched. "Long time, no see..." He paused. "I believe that is the Muggle phrase; am I right?" He looked questioningly over at Hope, who was sitting straight-backed in a rickety armchair, grinning painfully. Lyall could read the bewiderment written all over her face.

Lyall stared down at Dumbledore's hand, but didn't shake it. "Er," he said.

"And this time, the phrase shall be taken literally," Dumbledore said airly, taking Lyall's hand and shaking it gently. "It has been a long time, in which I have not seen you."

Lyall did not reply.

Dumbledore frowned vaguely at him. "Are you aware that the Hogwarts start-of-term is drawing nearer?"

Lyall gave a start. What was he doing, Dumbledore, here? And where were Lyall's manners? "I am," Lyall murmured, wringing his hands nervously behind his back. "Please, sit down."

"Thank you," Dumbledore replied, taking back his seat on the floor. Lyall stared down at him.

"Er - will you be wanting a chair?"

"Very soon, perhaps, but not now, thank you," Dumbledore twittered brightly, almost like a bird. Then his expression turned stony. "And you are aware that you have requested that young Remus here not be enrolled in Hogwarts this year?"

Remus leapt to his feet, looking utterly betrayed. "Dad!" he almost yelled. "Dad, is that true?"

Lyall felt his cheeks flush red with shame. He found himself unable to speak properly. "I-it..." He hesitated, wearily running a hand through his own hair. "It was... for your own good. To preserve - the safety of the other... other students..."

Remus's face fell, but Lyall could see that he understood. And even if the other students and staff didn't discover his secret at the beginning of the term, they would more than likely guess it by the end. It was like fate. They would be constantly on the move, constantly on the run. Remus would never get a proper magical education. In the armchair across the room, Lyall saw Hope's face whiten. She had realized it too. For a while, she had refused to give up, always telling Remus that it would be alright, that a time would come where he could go to school, make some real friends. But now… everything was revealed to her. He watched as her gaze sank towards the hands in her lap. With a start, he realized that he hadn't told her that he had forbidden Remus to attend Hogwarts. He wished he had. Lyall and his wife were drifting further and further apart. And Remus stood in the midst of it.

"Now, now," Dumbledore chided softly, clearly aware of the tension between Lyall and his family. Despite this, his eyes still sparkled like two stars behind his half-moon spectacles. "Things aren't as dark as they seem." He turned towards Lyall, his face completely unreadable. "Remus will be attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Lyall's gut wrenched. He felt his breakfast threaten to make a reappearance. "Wha- no… n- he can't…" His words faded as his gaze fell upon Remus, who was sitting there on the floor, staring wide-eyed at his father, clutching a Gobstone in one hand and a crumpet in the other.

He might've been good-looking once, perhaps even handsome. Hope always said that he was the spitting image of his father. Wavy gold hair, huge gray eyes that seemed to absorb everything they saw. But ever since the accident, his features seemed more… sunken. His hair looked like it had gone through a blender, and his eyes were now lifeless, but moved constantly, up and down, side to side, over his shoulder again and again. Always anxious, always nervous. Always fiddling with the hem of his baggy T-shirt that hung too loosely on his tiny frame. Remus had been small ever since he was born, but his condition made his body seem smaller than it actually was. And the scars. Cuts, bruises, and scratches covered Remus's body. Hundreds of them. Cursed wounds. They would never fully heal.

Lyall actually had to turn away from his son. It saddened him.

But Dumbledore, to Lyall's astonishment, just chuckled. "I assure you, we have taken all the necessary precautions."

Lyall noticed his wife perk up in her armchair. "Really? What would-"

He was quick to shoot her down. "No!" he yelled; Hope shrank back; Dumbledore's frown deepened.

"Lyall, please refrain from shouting at your wife," he requested, giving Lyall a dark glance. "I am doing this for Remus."

Everything was happening so fast. Lyall collapsed clumsily onto a stool, hiding his face in his hands. Hot and wet tears were streaming down his face. He couldn't tell if he was sobbing with fear or joy.

"Dad?" Remus took a few hesitant steps towards his father. Lyall opened his eyes, revealing his son's white heart-shaped face, framed by shredded golden hair. His eyes were pale, almost transparent, but somehow, still full of feeling. Remus was worried. Worried about his father.

Lyall felt Dumbledore's warm hand on his shoulder. "Do it for the boy, Lyall," he whispered softly, so that only the two of them could hear. Lyall's heart was beating so fast. Had Dumbledore found a place? A place where his son could live in peace…?

He nearly choked. "W-what about the other students?" Lyall muttered, his chin pressed into his cloak. "The teaching staff?"

"All the precautions have been made," Dumbledore repeated calmly, patting his shoulder, squeezing it lightly. "And the staff shall be informed."

Remus was looking from Dumbledore to his father in bewilderment. Hope, however, understood almost immediately. She let out a cry of relief and covered his mouth with her hands, not bothering to hide her grateful tears.

"What's going on?" Remus cried, still aware of the whole situation. Dumbledore just smiled, and tugged something out of his traveling cloak and handed it to Remus. He took it, examining it thoroughly. A slightly worn, yellowed envelope. Addressed in green ink.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Dumbledore proclaimed cheerfully. Then turned once again towards Lyall. "I believe a 'thank you,' would be in order…"

"Thank you," Lyall whispered shakily, slowly getting to his feet.

"Don't mention it," Dumbledore replied, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles. "Do you have any more of those crumpets, Hope? They're absolutely marvellous…"


	2. Of Catherine Wheels and Cauldron Cakes

An unfamiliar, tickly sort of rush ran through James as he dashed forwards. He was nervous, true. Who wouldn't be? He was sprinting full-speed towards a very solid-looking brick barrier. But his parents were behind him; he could hear their heavy footfalls, jogging at a slower pace. If he was going to crash violently into the barrier, at least he wouldn't be heading to the hospital alone.

Magic was an odd thing. It was truly a wonder, such a thing practically dangling on the edge of non-existence. Not everyone had magic. It wasn't exactly common, but seemed common enough...

James frowned. All this thinking made his head hurt.

The important thing was: he had magic. His parents had magic. His future friends and professors would have magic.

I love magic! James thought delightedly. Just seconds before he reached the barrier, he let out an exhilarated whoop and picked up speed. He knew deep down that the magic would kick in.

And he was right. Passing through the barrier was easy; it was as if he had simply stepped through a porthole into another world.

Indeed he could have. Platform nine and three-quarters seemed like an entirely different universe. The drab Muggle train station was so... well, boring compared to the pure excitement and bustle in this magical place. Everywhere, there were people, all witches and wizards, all crowded together on the platform, some trying to board the train, some attempting to leave it, some forced the crowd to part so they could walk through (there weren't many of these), while others simply wandered around aimlessly in circles, quite lost and unsure of what they were doing there.

James resisted the urge to laugh. It reminded him vaguely of a large school of fish, all trying the head different ways, but giving up eventually and just going along with the tide.

Something small and warty hopped near his foot, and he drew back quickly. A toad. Now that he thought about it, James realized that animals occupied at least half the platform. Rats scuttled by, the hairless tails whipping around in the air behind them. Bandy-legged cats, of all shapes and sizes, howled and meowed in their cages, scratching the metal bars with their claws, their bright eyes following the skitter rats hungrily. And the owls. Great-horned, moon-faced, snowy, speckled... absolutely everywhere. Nestled in cages, beaks under their wings; resting comfortably, perched on their owner's shoulder, or soaring overhead, hooting and screeching and shedding feathers and droppings. There was quite a racket.

James felt himself grin. He thought it was brilliant. He wondered if he could get away with dropping dung on someone's head.

His thoughts were interrupted by a very loud, very long whistle that obviously emitted from the giant red and gold steam engine that rested impatiently by the platform, almost like a restless cat, ready to spring and pouch on its prey. A middle-aged, portly man with dark hair and a darker cap (who James guessed was the conductor) patrolled the station, pointing at his watch and shouting something James couldn't hear. His father, however, could. James felt him squeeze his shoulder.

"It's leaving." James could barely hear him murmur. "Come on, you'd better get on."

Gently, he guided James towards the train, towing his belted trunk behind him. In it contained everything James would need: extra clothes, socks, shoes, underwear, snacks, his schoolbooks, extra parchment and ink, photos of his parents if he got lonely...

"I still don't see why I can't have an owl," James complained as they neared the train's boarding doors.

His father grinned slightly. "If you pass first year..." he said, with an air of sarcasm. "... with no detentions. Then, perhaps."

James pouted. "Please?"

His father's grin widened as he ruffled James's hair. "We'll see."

James's mother pushed through the crowd, finally reaching her son and husband. "Have you got everything?" she panted breathlessly. "Your books, your robes?"

"I seem to have forgotten my owl," James replied calmly. His father groaned and nudged James forward, who just grinned and began ascending the steps to board the train.

"Wait!" his mother shouted suddenly, rushing forwards. Hastily, she crouched down and planted a kiss between James's eyebrows. "Good luck, my darling," she whispered. James felt himself smile.

Whheeeeee! The whistle blew again, louder this time, following by a series of ringing bells. Smoke began to pour from the smokestacks; the conductor was shutting the doors of the passenger cars.

"Goodbye, son," his father said, almost proudly, and extended his hand. James took it, smiling broadly and he shook it. It made him feel like a grown up.

Then he wasted no time. He clambered aboard the Hogwarts Express, grunting as he towed his trunk in behind him. And just in time. The conductor had arrived at the door of his passenger car; with a bang, he slid it shut, locked it, and moved on. For a moment, the train remained stationary. James watched his parents embrace each other, kiss, and stare at James silently through the glass windows. James stared back, equally silent.

There was an abrupt clanging noise, then a sound like a gun going off. Almost immediately, smoke and sparks covered the whole exterior of the train from view. But James could hear metal starting to grind against metal, levers clanking, pistons pumping-

Another whistle. The train lurched forward, none too gently, and began to move. James's eye twitched. He still couldn't glimpse his parents through the thick haze of smoke. Desperately, he lunged forwards, pressing his face against the window, straining to see. He wasn't the only one. A few others had glued their noses to the glass as well; one boy had quite literally face-planted it.

Thankfully, the witches and wizards still on the platform had made way for the parents and guardians of those who had boarded the train; they knew that September the first was a very busy day for most. The start-of-term. The day they would board the train. The day anxious parents would crowd the station, searching for suitcases and spellbooks and lost wands.

Now, all the witches and wizards on the platform stood, waving cheerily, wishing good luck, to every single one of them. One energetic little wizard decided to actually set off fireworks - brilliant burning gold fire, silver sparkling lights and shocking ruby Catherine Wheels. Just as the train was rounding the bend, James saw that the fireworks drew all together in the cloudless sky, merging to form a shimmering black "H."

H. Hogwarts.

James grinned. For some reason, he felt special.

 

 

Clumsily, James stumbled through the cramped passageway, dragging his large over-stuffed suitcase and trunk. Why had his mother insisted that he practically take his entire room with him? Oh, well. At least he wouldn't get homesick.

James scoffed to himself. Homesick, him? What a laugh! He was on his way to Hogwarts! The best school in the world, his father had said. Just wait. It's just brilliant. The Great Hall, the dormitories, Hogsmeade, even the classes… it's all worth the wait. Trust me. James could already feel his heart pounding with excitement and anticipation. He didn't want to wait! He wanted to be there now!

"'Scuse me," he grumbled, squeezing past a tiny blonde girl with a thing that looked like a fluffy pink marshmallow on her shoulder. The girl rolled her eyes. The pink creature made a soft growly noise, then continued purring vibrating softly near her chin. James carefully edged past.

Silently, he scanned each compartment as he passed, still pulling his remarkably heavy luggage. Each carriage was filled, practically to the brim, with students. All from Hogwarts. However, they could've passed as normal, ordinary kids, as they were dressed in their Muggle attire. But several of them were brandishing their wands, performing small acts of magic: making their shoelaces dance and turning their friends' hair bright yellow. In fact, most of the compartments were littered with colourful bits of paper. Sweets, James realized. The witch with the trolley must've been there; he had scrambled past her in the train corridor (she had tripped over his suitcase). Chocolate Frogs, Sugar Quills, Licorice Wands… the trolley had it all. Sweets and treats, beyond your wildest dreams.

His stomach growled loudly, not unlike an angry dog, and he looked down at it with surprise. He hadn't realized just how hungry he was. Thoughtfully, James pondered his options. He had money; a great sack of Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts right there in his pocket, in fact. He'd need to find a carriage first, though. There he could relax, tell some cool jokes, throw around a little money, impress the girls. Like always.

James laughed a bit to himself. The people lounging in the compartment he was passing gave him a look; he flushed furiously with embarrassment and moved on.

Grunting, James towed his trunk towards the next compartment. Was it getting heavier? It certainly seemed so. After a few more seconds of straining and tugging, he eventually gave up. Then he had a second theory: what if he pushed it instead of pulling it? But that idea failed as well. He pushed and shoved with all his might. It wouldn't budge. It was like it had been glued to the floor.

James stared at the trunk in disbelief. "How is this possible?" he wondered aloud. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a couple slender girls (he guessed sixth-years) passing him on his right. Thinking fast, he raised his voice a little. "How is this possible?" he practically yelled. "I mean, I worked so hard this summer on my upper body strength! I could almost lift my entire house!"

One of the girls giggled. The other girl, a sullen-faced blonde, just rolled her eyes and yanked her friend back into their compartment; James grinned winningly and waved.

Then someone spoke behind him, so suddenly James tripped over his own trunk and onto the carriage floor. "Wow. Flirt much?" the person chuckled sarcastically, clearly unimpressed.

James groaned as the glasses slipped off his nose. The person standing above him was all blurry, no more than a dimly-colored blotch, like someone had spilled paint on an already-destroyed canvass.

Nonetheless, James did his best to recover. "What's it to you?" he said confidently, seizing his glasses and slamming them back onto his face, almost snapping them in half. He watched as the person slowly came into focus - a boy about his age, maybe a little older. Long dark hair, tan skin, and a cheeky grin that stretched right up to his liquid-brown eyes. The boy shrugged; his smirk didn't fade.

"Oh, nothing. It's just… well." Now the boy's grin wilted a bit. "Bad luck, mate. Both of those girls are already seeing someone."

"Oh, yeah?" James muttered, slowly getting to his feet. Something like hot fire was growing in his stomach - it took him a while to realize that it was the wrenching pull in his gut that he felt entirely too often - competition. He growled at the boy. "How do you know?"

The boy frowned, obviously disliking James's attitude. "They're my cousins." He sounded so bold it made James jealous.

"Oh?" James felt sick. He didn't like this boy. "Sucks for you, then."

"Who are you, anyways?" The boy snapped back. "Nothing you say makes sense!"

James found himself shouting now; he didn't know why. The hot fire that was competition had grown in his stomach, roaring to life like a full-grown lion. He advanced, and leaned in towards the boy, almost spitting right in his face. "I'm James Potter, and I'm better than your sorry ass!" he screamed.

To James's severe disappointment, the boy wasn't even fazed. "My ass is wonderful, thanks very much," the boy replied coolly. "Although I must congratulate you, that was quite a good speech you said there."

James frowned. "Huh?"

"'I'm James Potter, and I'm better than your sorry ass!'" the boy mimed squeakily, waving his hands around his head in mock imitation of James. "Quite good. But my comeback was better."

The lion was shrinking now, quickly being replaced by awe and utter confusion. James swallowed; he felt his cheeks redden. Had he really acted so rambunctiously? "Yeah…" he murmured embarrassedly.

The boy's frown deepened for a moment, then took a few steps back, examining James from head to toe. "What did you say your name was?" he asked. James frowned right back at him.

"James," he responded, adjusting his glasses on his nose. "And you are?"

"Sirius."

James raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

The boy glanced up at him, startled. "What?"

"What are you serious about?" James questioned, perturbed. Was the boy pulling a prank? If so, he really was very good. He looked genuinely confused.

"Serious about… oh, wait." The boy scratched his head. "This happens a lot. Sirius. It's my name. S-I-R-I-U-S. It's a family name."

The boy looked mildly humiliated as he grinned.

Sirius. What kind of name was that? James had absolutely no idea. He had never heard anything like it before.

Countryside rolled by. James could see it through the windows. For several seconds, the two boys just stood there, smiling awkwardly at each other. What time was it? James didn't know. It seemed awfully late; he should've found a compartment by now. Instead, he had collided - rather randomly, he might add - with this strange boy, who, James realized, seemed oddly like him...

Furtively, James scanned the boy - Sirius. Long, chocolate-brown hair that almost reached his shoulders, quite well kept, unlike James's, which stuck up in the back no matter what James or his mother tried. Strong jawline, straight nose, very white, even teeth. Dark eyes - the same color as his hair. Tan skin.

But not as dark as mine, James thought proudly. But Sirius wore nicer clothes than James did - even James thought so. Black dress shoes, black suit pants, and a wrinkled white Oxford shirt, recently untucked. James could tell. He had experience.

Still, he made James feel very underdressed in just jeans, sneakers, and a T-shirt.

It's a nice T-shirt, his brain argued.

Finally, Sirius spoke up. "What're you doing in the middle of the hall anyways?" Then he rolled his eyes. "Did you fall over on purpose, trying to get Narcissa and Andromeda to notice you?"

"Who?"

"My cousins. You were making googly eyes at them earlier."

"No, I wasn't," James replied stubbornly. "My trunk is too damn heavy, and I can't find a damn compartment because they're all too damn full."

Sirius's leg shot out as he aimed a powerful kick at the trunk lying there; it didn't move. "Damn right," Sirius muttered, rubbing his sore toe. He scratched his head again.

"BOYS!" Someone behind James scolded. Once more, James tumbled over his trunk in surprise, then groaned, seeing the witch with the trolley standing there. Abruptly, Sirius burst out laughing as James struggled to his feet, swearing angrily.

"Boys, really!" sputtered the witch, shaking a long, gnarled finger at them. "Using language like that - here, on the train! Why, I ought to report you-"

"Excuse me!" A dreamy, yet quite urgent voice interrupted her. James turned. His jaw dropped. An extremely pretty girl had poked her head out of the nearest compartment - the girl who had giggled at James earlier. His heart fluttered when he saw her, despite the fact that she was well older than he was. Still... her features were so soft. Straight brown hair and big brown eyes that drank in everything they saw. Full red lips pulled up in a gentle grin.

"Excuse me," she said again, this time sticking her hand out into the corridor. In her fist she clutched a few golden coins. Galleons. "Could I have a few dozen Cauldron Cakes, please?" She flashed a hopeful smile at the witch with the trolley. "Cissy just can't get enough of them."

The witch was happy to oblige; James and Sirius did their best to appear as preoccupied as possible: brushing at their clothes, bending down, pretending to tie their shoes (Sirius's shoes didn't have any laces), and whistling as obnoxiously as they could. It felt like forever, but the witch finally disappeared, along with the trolley. The girl turned towards them, her arms positively stuffed with Cauldron Cakes.

"Take them, quickly!" she hissed.

"What?" James never passed up free pastries, but now he found himself hesitating. "They're yours!"

"I bought them for you two," she whispered loudly. With these words, she hefted the pile at them, and promptly vanished.

For a few moments, it was simply raining Cauldron Cakes. Then, it stopped, just as suddenly as it had began, and James and Sirius were left standing ankle-deep in pastries.

Sirius broke the silence. "Good old 'Dromeda," he murmured happily, picking up a cake and examining it from end to end. "Always there to get you out of a pinch."

James was speechless. The past events seemed to have gone by in a matter of minutes. "That your cousin?" he found himself inquiring, more curiously than he would have liked. He earned a knowing smirk from Sirius.

"Yep. She's my favourite. Rest are prats." With that, he stuffed a whole Cauldron Cake into his mouth and proceeded to shove the rest of them into James's suitcase. James opened his mouth to ask Sirius just what he meant by that, but he decided not to press him. Sirius was clearly attempting to avoid the matter.

It took them a while, but finally, they managed to stuff every single one of them into James's suitcase, now nearly bulging with treats.

"That's the lot!" Sirius shouted cheerfully; to James, it sounded like garbled nonsense (Sirius had shoved several pastries into his mouth, with the excuse, "Storing them for the winter!"). He couldn't understand a word he was saying.

"Let's go find a compartment," Sirius said suddenly, swallowing with difficulty. "There has to be an empty one somewhere."

James stared at Sirius in disbelief. "What about my trunk?" he complained. It was still sitting there in the middle of the corridor, along with his suitcase simply stuffed with Cauldron Cakes.

Sirius shrugged dismissively. "They'll pick it up one way or another - Hogwarts, I mean." With the air of finishing an important lecture, he peered carefully down the hall. James watched him, finding this all very hard to believe. Just moments before, he and Sirius had been spitting insults at each other. Now he wanted to find a compartment...! It was possible that Sirius was just trying to be friendly, but he didn't strike James as the "friendly" type. More of the "clever, sadistic, sarcastic" type, with just a hint of pride. Well, more than a hint.

James felt himself grin on the inside. Just like him.

James struggled to find something to say. "But... haven't you already got a compartment?"

Sirius rolled his eyes in reply. "Uh, yeah." He thrust a thumb at the carriage behind him; James could see several dark-haired sitting in there, all with the same snooty expressions on their faces. The only one even slightly smiling was the one who had given them the sweets - Andromeda. She waved gaily at them through the window.

"I'd rather sit with you, though," Sirius grumbled resentfully, running a hand through his silky brown hair.

"At least you know how to laugh."

James smiled rather weakly. He didn't know what to say. The way Sirius spoke suggested that he didn't like his family very much - or maybe, perhaps... his family didn't like him. James took another glance at the people in the nearest compartment. Andromeda was now trying to engage Narcissa and the rest of her companions in a seemingly entertaining conversation, but they weren't amused. In fact, most of them were practically ignoring here, gazing out the windows of the carriage and pretending she wasn't there. James watched as her face fell, and he felt a tugging pang in his stomach. He didn't know what it was like to have a family like that - he wouldn't know. As far as he knew, James's mother and father loved him with all their hearts. They gave him anything he wanted (most of the time) and gave the attention that he desired (all of the time). He wondered about Sirius's family, whether or not they loved him, gave him things he would like for Christmas, or provided him with the attention that he obviously needed. Judging by the look on Sirius's face, he doubted it.

James's mind raced. "Okay!" He said this in a purposely squeaky, cheery voice. He held up his arm like he and Sirius were supposed to go walk down the aisle. "Let's go."

Sirius stared at James like he was crazy, but a twinkle in his eye suggested otherwise. "You're weird, mate," he muttered, grinning slightly.

James took this as his cue; he began to skip in frantic little circles around Sirius, still offering him his arm. "I know," he said, now hopping on one leg around Sirius. "My mum says that a lot."

Sirius frowned, or at least, he tried to. "Well then, she's right."

"Says you, pretty boy."

Sirius took up a tone that suggested mock surprise. His hand leapt up towards his mouth as he let out a huge gasp. "James Potter!" Sirius managed to fan himself with his hand and flip his hair simultaneously. "Are you flirting with me?"

"Were you expecting-" But James couldn't take much more, he could barely contain giggles, what with Sirius flipping his hair and fanning himself like some expensive lady - James burst out laughing. Sirius did too. They very nearly fell over each other, screaming with mirth. Out of the corner of his eye, James saw one of the blonde girls in Andromeda's compartment - Narcissa, he remembered - give them a disgusted look. But James couldn't have cared less. And he could tell that Sirius felt the same way.

"Oh, James!" Sirius simpered, still managing to stay in the act. He batted his eyelashes and attempted to constrain violent bouts of laughter.

James chortled in reply, then choked, causing his glasses to slide halfway down his nose. Smirking, Sirius reached over and flicked James's glasses right off his face.

"Hey!" James protested, still chuckling. But Sirius held them out of reach, now getting to his feet, still chuckling. "Come on, give 'em back," James whimpered. Without his glasses, he was staring up at a white and black coloured blur standing above him.

Sirius laughed. "Gotta catch me first, Jamsie." And with that, he took off, faster than James had thought he would. He ran, screaming as loudly as he could, still clutching James's glasses in his fist. He knocked passengers and paraphernalia aside, trying to block James's path. James grinned widely, pushing himself to his feet.

"You asked for it," he murmured, dashing after Sirius. But with slightly less grace; he slammed into the passengers and fell over the paraphernalia as he went.


	3. The Last Compartment

"Give 'em back, Sirius!"

"Come and get them!"

"You f-" Sirius grinned as he heard a heavy thumping noise, immediately followed by an irritated "oomph!" It was now the eleventh time James had fallen over something.

"You all right?" Sirius shouted over his shoulder, not bothering to slow his pace.

"Give me my glasses, Sirius, you prat!" James screamed, jumping out of nowhere and tackling him. Sirius was taken completely by surprise, leaving James the perfect opportunity to steal back his glasses. He snatched them away, looking haughty as he place them neatly on his nose. "How do I look?" He sounded honestly concerned.

"Stunning," Sirius muttered sarcastically, whipping a crumpled scrap of parchment out of his pocket. He tapped his chin. "Hmm… so that makes it… Sirius: 5, James, 1."

"No!" James protested, trying to grab the parchment and quill out of Sirius's hands. "I have two points; I totally got you that one time!"

"Poppycock," Sirius replied calmly, sticking his nose up in the air.

"I did so!"

"Nonsense, my good sir, it can't be."

"Yes, I did! I swear-!"

"If you're talking about the time you stepped on my foot-"

He broke off suddenly as James elbowed him hard in the ribs; Sirius choked with laughter, doubling over. He'd never felt this happy before, at least, not for a long time…

Seeing his distracted, James struck. He ripped the parchment from Sirius's grasp and jogged forward a few paces, making faces and dancing tauntingly. Sirius tried his hardest to make a disapproving face, he really did, but he just doubled over again, chuckling even harder. "You look stupid," he chortled, hugging his sides; they ached.

James was grinning so widely his face looked like it was threatening to split open. Then he froze, with that crazed grin and a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Sirius thought he looked quite creepy, to be honest. If possible, James's grin got even wider.

"Come and get me!" he finally hollered, turning round and rushing down the corridor again. Abruptly, Sirius jumped up and sped after him.

Sirius felt better than he ever had in his entire life. For once, he had a friend - a friend who he could joke with, play pranks with, laugh about everything with. They wouldn't discuss history or family trees or what they had eaten for supper the past few nights."Broccoli, and something boring," Sirius would always say. His family... didn't like to understand him. And that was an understatement. Pure-blood maniacs they were, power-hungry spoiled brats. How they hated him. How they despised him. It was like an obsession, always finding something wrong in whatever he did, whether it was talking or eating or even sleeping. Always he seemed to bring disgrace to the noble and most Ancient House of Black.

He had tried to bring honor to his family many times, many, many times - but he had failed miserably, all because his mother and father absolutely hated him. The worst of the Blacks, an inhuman snobbish swine who deserved to be boiled in frog spawn... Sirius had heard it all. Recently, he had just given up with trying to impress his parents and decided to try and make their lives as miserable and as uncomfortable as possible. He wanted to embarrass them, he wanted them to make public fools of themselves. He enjoyed seeing the look of disgust on their faces whenever he played a prank, he enjoyed the gasp of horror when he introduced them to his "Mudblood friend." It was his favourite pastime, a mere hobby, now that he did it so often. He wished he could make a living off of it.

Up ahead of him, James was slowing a bit. Sirius grinned. James was fast, but not exactly aware. Sirius could just tackle him now, and James wouldn't know before it hit him. But James sprinted faster... Sirius did also... they were approached a corner...

"Oomph!" James yelled suddenly,flying out in front of Sirius tumbling head over heels. He had veered right sharply, apparently smashing into the door of a compartment with the sheer speed of a bullet. Sirius followed suit, smashing head-first into the glass and bouncing back. He tumbled right over James and slammed straight up against the opposite side of the corridor, so that he landed on his head with his feet in the air. He heard himself groan, and brought a hand up (or down?) to his head. His vision was swimming, but he managed to glimpse James smirking down at him.

"That's four more points for me, at least," he declared, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.

"Is not," Sirius grumbled from his place on the floor.

Helping Sirius upright, James stated, "Well - we found an empty compartment."

Sirius squinted. Everything was still hazy. He shook his head a couple of times and looked again.

James was right; the compartment was nearly empty. Nearly. Leaning up against the glass facing the hall was a boy about their age, although Sirius thought he looked younger. He was smaller than either of them, and about an inch shorter. He was also fast asleep. He has to be, Sirius thought. He and James had crashed into the same window the boy was leaning against. He hadn't moved at all.

James spoke first. "I think he's dead." His voice sounded oddly hollow.

Sirius suddenly found himself aghast. He could only imagine what his cousins would do if they found him standing over a dead body. They would probably congratulate him on murdering a wizard with blood-status unworthy of Hogwarts.

He felt his eyes widen with panic. He was thinking like a Black!

Stubbornly, he cleared his mind and advanced towards the door of the compartment, tugging it open slightly. He half-expected the boy to fall lifelessly onto the floor, proving James right. However, he was relieved to see the boy stir a bit and turn to rest his chin on his grinned over his shoulder. "Not dead," he chuckled lightly. "That's another point for me, I guess."

James hit him.

They dashed into the compartment, fighting for a few minutes for the window seat, before realizing that they could both get the window seat if they just sat opposite of each other. But James declared loudly that he'd rather sit beside his friend, and surrendered the window seat over to Sirius. Sirius took it, grinning broadly.

"You know, surrender is a sign of weakness," Sirius said, pretending to be cross.

"Aw, shove off," James said a bit louder, almost yelling, staring at the sleeping boy with wide eyes.

Sirius felt a little alarmed. "Uh, you feel alright mate?"

"Are you sure he's not dead?" James muttered admittedly, gesturing towards the boy. "I mean, he hasn't woken up yet. And I'm practically shouting." James looked hurt. "Everyone wakes up when I'm shouting - at least, that's what my mum says."

"My mum says something a bit stronger," Sirius murmured darkly. Furtively, he took the parchment with their tally of points and crumpled it up into a ball a little smaller than his hand. He tossed it gently at the boy. It was well-aimed; it smacked him lightly in the face and neatly landed in his lap. This time, the boy didn't stir. Sirius frowned.

"He's either dead or a real heavy sleeper," he said, exchanging concerned looks with James (James looked more fascinated than concerned).

"How old is he, do you reckon?" James said quietly. "He can't be our age, can he?"

Sirius gazed out the window, not really paying attention "I expect he's younger," he said, picking at his cuticles.

James elbowed him. "No, look. He has grey hair."

Sirius was startled; he almost shut his fingers in the window. What a random thing to say. The boy couldn't have grey hair. Sirius was convinced that you couldn't get grey hair until you were at least fifty. How could a boy their age, older, or younger have grey have just yet? He was about to tease James for ever suggesting something that ridiculous - when he noticed. Sunlight was streaming through th polished window, illuminating the seemingly dim compartment. The sun it up the boy's face and hair... he had grey hair. Not completely. In fact, not much at all. Just in certain places, and just at the roots. Still, Sirius as astounded. Even a little scared.

James, meanwhile, was jumping up and down in his seat energetically. "Maybe he's a Metamorphmagus!" he whispered excitedly.

Sirius doubted it. The boy looked very weak and frail, and looked incapable of even being a Metamorphmagus (a witch or wizard that could change their appearance), much less able to do magic at all. He looked like he would collapse under the weight of his wand.

Sirius voiced his thoughts to James, who leaned forwards and scanned the boy up and down. "I reckon he could do with some food," he began uneasily. "He looks about ready to keel over."

Sirius noted this. James was right once again. He practically could count all the bones in the boy's hands. But he felt himself scowl. "I'm not facing that witch with the food cart - she'll just scream at us again," he said, making a face.

James frowned. "Well, we-"

"Cauldron Cakes," Sirius pointed out.

"Wha - oh, yeah!" James exclaimed, remembering his suitcase almost bursting with pastries abandoned in the middle of the corridor. "Hold on; I'll get some." And with that, he left, slamming the compartment door shut, leaving Sirius alone with the boy.

Sirius frowned, shifting awkwardly in his seat. He felt like he should say something. But what to say? It wasn't like anyone could hear him. So he examined the boy sitting far away from him, snoring lightly with his chin on his chest. Vaguely, Sirius found himself wondering. There was something... rather odd about this boy. And it wasn't just his starved look or greyish hair. It was his air - some sort fo aura that seemed to surround him. Almost like a sense of danger.

Instinctively, Sirius felt himself tense, like he expected the boy to attack. He'd seen this sort before around Grimmauld Place - wizards and witches who used helplessness as a disguise, then, suddenly and silently, they would strike, with violence and viciousness quite unknown to wizard-kind. Sirius found himself edging away from the boy now. Angrily, he scolded himself. There was no reason for this. Why was he so prejudice?

Isn't it obvious? A nasty little voice whispered in his head that sounded suspiciously like his mother. You're a Black.

Sirius saw his hands close into tight fists. How he wished he wasn't how he wished that he wasn't even related to them... Despicable they were, pure-blood maniacs, snobbish, gaudy prats...

The voice interrupted You can't leave. It cackled evilly. You will always be a Black.

"No!" Sirius heard himself yell. He launched himself forwards, punching anything he could reach. He could feel his fury rising; he always had had a short temper, he just couldn't stand it anymore! He wouldn't listen to her, not anymore, she was wrong, she was wrong-!

Abruptly, through the blur of his own flailing fists, Sirius saw a very pale and scarred hand lash out and grab his wrist in an unusually firm grip.

"I was just asking what you were doing," came a quiet voice

Bewildered, Sirius stared. The boy sitting opposite him had woken, and was gazing over at Sirius with a combination of curiosity and alarm. Now Sirius was convinced that the boy as older than him, he had to be, at least by a few years. Despite being both smaller and paler than Sirius, the boy seemed... aged. His grey hair and raggedy clothes certainly didn't improve his appearance. He looked like a... a...

A tramp.

The boy gave him a puzzled look; for a moment, Sirius feared that he'd said it aloud. And for a minute, they just stared at each other awkwardly, both unsure of what to say Finally, Sirius wrenched his hand away. "Nothing," he said coolly, attempting to mask his look of surprise The boy just shrank back, almost like he had expected Sirius to hit him. But he kept his eyes trained down in his lap.

At that exact moment, James decided to flounce back inside the compartment, dragging behind him a very large sack of Cauldron Cakes, and, by the looks of it, other treats and goodies.

"I met the trolley witch," he explained unnecessarily, grinning. Then his gaze shifted over to the boy.

"Hullo, you're awake. Name's James Potter. How you doing?" James reached out and shook the boy's limp hand heartily. Then, without waiting for a reply, continued to address Sirius. "I took the liberty of buying her entire stock. There's a new warlock on those Chocolate Frog cards-"

"Are you serious?" Sirius interrupted. He could hear the disbelief in his own voice.

James chortled, "No, you're Sirius," and overturned his sack. A flood flood of sweets tumbled out - crushed Cauldron Cakes, stringy Licorice Wands, plump Pumpkin Pasties and an absolute rainbow of Every Flavor Beans. Sirius eyed the treats in wonder; the boy edged away from the as if they might burn him. James snorted. "They're not poisoned," he chuckled, tossing a Licorice Wand at the boy. "Go on, have at it!"

The boy picked it up warily, like he was afraid it might explode in his face. Eventually, he deemed it safe and took a small bite. "Twelve years this March," he mumbled.

"What?" James asked, plopping back down in his seat.

"Twelve years this March," the boy said a bit louder. He glanced sheepishly over at James. "You were wondering how old I was. Twelve years this March."

James frowned. "Wha - oh!"

Quickly, Sirius did the math "You're in our year!" he burst out.

The boy nodded distractedly, setting down his unfinished Licorice Wand and picking up a Chocolate Frog. "Are these real frogs?" he asked uncertainly, almost to himself.

"Nah," Sirius said, grabbing a couple Pumpkin Pasties for himself. "I'll be twelve in November." He heard himself announce this rather loudly, like it was really important. Well, it is, Sirius though. Age played a key role when it came to respect, along with blood-status, of course-

You're not at Grimmauld Place! Sirius told himself.

The boy glanced at him. "Congratulations," he muttered sarcastically, the corners of his mouth twitching. Tentatively, he bit off the frog's head and chewed slowly. Then a grin lit up his face. "This is good!"

Sirius felt himself smile. Then outstretched his hand. "I'm Sirius"

The boy frowned. "About what?"

"What? I - no." Sirius sighed annoyed. This always happened. Why did his parents have to g and name his something stupid like Sirius?"Sirius. It's my name. S-I-R-I-U-S."

"Like Sirius in Canis Major?"

Sirius sat back, confused. "What?"

The boy bit his lip, his mouth still full of Chocolate Frog. "Sirius. S-I-R-I-U-S? Canis Major? The dog...? His voice faded when he noticed James and Sirius's clueless expressions.

"I'm named after a dog?" Sirius shrieked, crushing his Pumpkin Pasty in his fist; James fell over laughing.

"Well, it's actually a star," the boy said hurriedly, swallowing.

"I'm named after a star," Sirius mumbled, watching bits of pasty drop onto the floor. "Now I feel better." How he hated those family names They didn't make any sense at all.

The boy smiled. "Well, James and Sirius, I'm Remus Lupin. Pleased to meet you." And with that, he tugged a large book out of his duffel bag and disappeared behind it.

"Hm," Sirius said, exchanging glances with James, who could barely restrain fits of laughter. It as clear James found this boy funny. For some reason.

"Oh, you forgot this," Remus said, tossing a small paper ball into the air. James caught it; Sirius looked over his shoulder and saw that it was their tally of points - Remus had taken out his quill and given James ten more points.

"Hey!" Sirius protested.

"He brought in the candy," Remus pointed out.

"Ha, ha, I win" James teased, poking Sirius in the ribs.

Sirius hit him. James hit back. They engaged in a joke of a wrestling match that mostly involved slapping each other in the face. Remus watched them, greatly amused, over the top of his book. And despite having his hair pulled by James, Sirius felt immensely happy. Never before he he felt this loved. All throughout his life, he had hated, despised even. His whole family had looked down their noses at him - a disgrace to the noble House of Black.

At that moment, their compartment door opened again, and a small girl with a mane of red hair flung herself inside, pushing herself past Remus and curling up against the window. Sirius and James paid her no attention, though out of the corner of his eye, Sirius saw Remus's gaze flicker towards, then back down at his book; he noticed Remus's eyebrows come together. Not even a minute afterwards, another boy arrived at their carriage. Greasy-haired, hook-nosed and hunched, he looked rather like a bat that was stuffed into wizard robes. Only having eyes for the red-haired girl, the boy shoved past James and Sirius practically knocking them to the floor, and seated himself opposite her. James shot the boy look of great dislike - Sirius rolled his eyes and took a seat beside Remus, who seemed to flinch every time Sirius moved

"I'm not going to hit you," Sirius said quietly.

Remus's hands were almost shaking. I-I know," he whispered, and disappeared behind his book again.

Sirius frowned. Remus seemed nice enough, perhaps more clever than he was nice. But there was something definitely strange about him... something he was hiding...

Suddenly, the girl sitting near the window let out a choked sob. "So she's my sister!" Sirius heard her cry. He saw the boy sitting opposite her open his mouth to say something, then seemed to catch himself, because for a moment he just sat there, agape, like a goldfish. Then, finally, he spoke.

"But we're going!" the boy said, not bothering to hide the excitement in his thin, hoarse voice. "This is it! We're off to Hogwarts!"

The girl, Sirius saw, sniffled, but managed a weak smile. The boy, in turn, brightened. "You'd better be in Slytherin," he added casually.

"Slytherin?"

A bomb might've dropped - James practically jumped five feet in the air with his arms flailing, all while choking rather unattractively on a Cauldron Cake. Nearby, Remus was watching all this with a look of mild interest on his face. Sirius, meanwhile, was inwardly panicking. He should've guessed it - James hated Slytherin. He was that type. But anyone normal would hate Slytherin, Sirius thought bitterly. Who wouldn't? All of the darkest and most evil witches and wizards were Sorted into Slytherin... and it did nothing to change them. If anything, they just got nastier It made sense, Sirius thought. His whole family were wicked, spoiled prats. And they'd all been Sorted into Slytherin.

It makes sense, Sirius thought again. The cheerfulness seemed to leech right out of him, and his sardonic, gloomy self returned. Dreading what was to come next, he slid further and further down in his seat, trying to disappear. He saw Remus glance down at the top f his head. "Where are you going?" he asked curiously. Sirius groaned, realising that he couldn't escape - he sat back upright, refusing to smile. His mother was cackling madly inside his head.

"Who wants to be in Slytherin?" James was saying now. Then he addressed Sirius. "I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

Doing his best to avoid James's gaze, Sirius answered honestly. "My whole family have been in Slytherin," he muttered, half-expecting James to leap up and hit him, calling him a liar and a traitor.

Instead, Sirius was startled to see James smile.

"Blimey! And I thought you seemed all right!"

Sirius felt himself grin, out of happiness or sheer relief, he didn't know. "Maybe I'll break the tradition." James chuckled a little; Sirius's grin widened. "Where are you heading, if you've got the choice?"

He watched as James lifted and swung and invisible sword. "'Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!' Like my dad.'"

Slowly, Sirius began to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Gryffindor - he could see it. That was why James hated Slytherin so. The two Houses were practically arch enemies; they always seemed to be at each other's throats, with classes, points, competitions, Quidditch... Even the Heads of Gryffindor and Slytherin had been said to be short with each other, no matter who they were.

Sirius almost felt his face light up. How he wished to be Sorted into Gryffindor. His parents, he hoped, would finally give up and disown him.

Suddenly, the boy sitting opposite the red-haired girl snorted disapprovingly. James turned on him so fast Sirius was surprised he didn't get whiplash.

"Got a problem with that?" James asked accusingly, his eyes narrowing.

"No," the boy replied; his expression suggested that he thought otherwise. "If you'd rather be brawny than brainy-"

Sirius snapped. Leaning forwards, he said, "Where're you hoping to go, seeing as you're neither?"

James exploded with laughter, and Sirius felt himself grow warm with pride. James did not hate him, in fact, he felt even more friendly with James. The girl, meanwhile, glared at them as she stood.

"Come on, Severus, let's find another compartment."

"Ooooo..." James did his best to imitate her in his highest, girliest voice, which simply resulted in his voice cracking. He choked as he laughed, but managed to stick out his foot, nearly tripping Severus as he left their compartment.

"See ya, Snivellus!" Sirius called after him, still chortling as he slammed the door. Then he turned round, grinning broadly. "You know, I don't mind being named after a dog-"

"A star," Remus corrected, raising an eyebrow.

"-that much. At least I don't have a name like Snivellus," Sirius finished, still laughing a bit. James fished a package of Every Flavor Beans out of the pile. "What do you think, Remus?"

"Hm?" Remus said vaguely.

"What House do you want to be in?"

Remus closed his book thoughtfully. "I don't know, do we get to choose?" he wondered.

"I think we get a word in," Sirius added, taking back his seat next to James, who frowned.

"But doesn't family have to do with it as well?" he questioned.

"I hope not," Sirius said darkly, taking a Licorice Wand and fashioning it into a noose.

James snorted into his box of Every Flavor Beans. "Well, my dad was in Gryffindor, and Sirius's whole family was in Slytherin-"

"Hear, hear," Sirius groaned.

"What about your parents then, Remus?"

Remus didn't respond for a while. "My dad was in Ravenclaw," he said shortly, staring out the window almost dolefully.

"And?" Sirius prompted.

Remus looked startled. "And what?"

"What about your mum?" James inquired, popping another bean into his mouth.

"Oh... she's a Muggle." Sirius saw Remus turn a bit red. "I hope you don't mind."

James scoffed. "Of course we don't mind! Do we, Sirius?" He elbowed Sirius in the ribs again; he choked.

"'Course not," Sirius coughed. But James didn't know his last name yet, he didn't know that he was a Black. Everyone knew that the Blacks were pure-blood obsessed...

"Shut up," Sirius told himself aloud. He distracted himself by emptying a whole box of Every Flavor Beans into his mouth.

"SIRIUS!" James shouted, both in amazement and disgust. "There's got to be at least twenty different flavors in there!"

"I know," Sirius choked. "Nougat... sprouts... ugh, tripe -"

"Swallow it, swallow it!" James was screaming with laughter. "Do you want to be in Gryffindor or not?"

"You'll be Sorted into Gryffindor if you spit it all over James's face," said Remus convincingly.

"OY!"

A loud, shrieking whistle interrupted their merriment - the train began to jerk, metal creaked, and gradually, it started to slow. Outside the window, the countryside had vanished, now replaced by an ancient-looking wooden platform, overshadowed by a huge looming tower in the distance.

Sirius swallowed the beans, the tastes of nougat, sprouts and tripe quite forgotten. A sick sort of feeling had started to grown in his stomach, and began to creep up into this throat.

"We're here."


	4. Dumbledore's Plan

Remus didn't want to put his book away. As the train whistled and shrieked louder than ever, found that his stomach was twisting with nervousness. His shoulder seemed to agree with the pang - his shoulder ached - but then again, his shoulder always ached.

He was tempted to pull down his shirt and glance at it, hoping halfheartedly that he would see nothing there, just smooth skin, like there should be. But he knew there wasn't. His left shoulder was practically mauled; three deep gashes right down to the bone, torn flesh and popping veins. It seemed to bleed regularly - once a month. At the full moon.

Remus frowned as his shoulder twinged a bit more. It always seemed to when he was nervous.

Sirius, meanwhile, was staring out the window, a combination of eagerness and edginess etched on his face. "We'd better get our robes on," he said, his lips pursing. "Ah. I've gone and left mine in the other compartment."

"Mine's in my trunk - in the middle of the corridor," James muttered, almost embarrassed.

Remus heard himself laugh. "How'd you do that?"

"It was Sirius's fault!" James prompted.

"Was not!"

"I'll change here," Remus said quickly, trying to look as casual as he could. But Sirius and James just shrugged and wished him farewell as they left the compartment, slamming the door shut firmly behind him. Remus watched them leave, then practically collapsed, sighing with relief. He was glad he had been acquainted with some of the boys in his year, he really was, but... it scared him that they had been so friendly. Shouldn't they be frightened of him, shouldn't they shrink back with fear?

They don't know, Remus thought sadly. And he couldn't let them know. Not ever.

Slowly, he got to his feet, hissing with pain as he rolled his sore shoulder. It wasn't agreeing with him, not like it ever did. It ached and burned, feeling as it always did - like it was going to fall off. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to examine the windows of the compartment facing the hall. Thank God they had shades. He yanked them down with unnecessary force, causing them to snap and fall to the floor; he repaired them with a wave of his wand. To be honest, he felt odd, having to wave a wooden stick in order to do magic. Remus had grown up around magic, of course, but his father refused to use his wand, as they were living like Muggles. Remus, however had used "extraordinary magic," Dumbledore had said, well beyond the Ordinary Wizarding Level since he was three. Both wandless and non-verbally. Dumbledore was very impressed.

"Wonderful!" he remembered Dumbledore exclaiming, watching as Remus lit his father's cigarette from across the room. "But of course, once you know the incantation, the spell will be stronger, you know..."

Remus, in turn, was very impressed by Dumbledore. He had come all the way from... wherever he came from, just to see Remus and personally give him his Hogwarts letter! Remus recalled flushing with pride. He had felt like he was meeting a celebrity.

"Well, I am on a Chocolate Frog card..." Dumbledore had started, winking.

Remus turned round now, tugging his robes out of his duffel bag. They were remarkably shabby and ancient; his parents hadn't bothered to hide the fact that they couldn't afford new ones. But Remus was honored to wear these to Hogwarts. They had been his father's when he had gone to school there. But he had been bigger than Remus was. And by a lot, Remus thought as he pulled on the robes. Yes, he had been about the same height, because length wasn't a problem. The sleeves, however... They hung about two inches below his hand - he had to roll them up three times. But Remus wasn't bothered much by this. After all, they hid the scars and cuts crossing over his wrists and hands.

There wasn't a mirror in the the compartment, and Remus was grateful. He hated looking at his reflection. His mother always told him what a handsome little boy he was, but he never had believed her. His blonde hair, always scruffy and rumpled, hung in misshapen curls around his face, and his face was just as scarred as his hands - perhaps worse. There were long, unhealed scratches that rode along his cheekbones, which stood out unnaturally far. And his eyes - to him, at least - were the worst of all. They were the features he despised, because they... in a way... revealed him...

They were abnormally large, and grey, a deep grey. His mother always said that she saw bits of blue in them. But flecks of bright amber stood out in them, not noticeable at first. But as the day of the full moon approached...

Remus shoved his Muggle clothes back into his bag and strode out of the compartment, trying not to wince as his shoulder twinged. The last full moon had been his worst yet...

Screaming. Scratching. Heavy thuds and bangs. Howls. Blood.

Remus Lupin was a werewolf.

He kept his head down as he passed the other compartments, as he didn't want to draw attention to himself. He didn't want anyone to look at him, he didn't want anyone to come near him. If they were smart, they would know already, the symptoms were too obvious. September 1st was only a week after the full moon, and Remus was still struggling to recover from the torturous night, shackled to a cabinet, all alone in a tiny, dug-out basement.

He shuddered just thinking about it.

The train screamed again, its whistle shrieking like an irritated banshee. Hastily, Remus left the Hogwarts Express, the scarlet, smoke-bellowing steam engine. But he had entered, quite unknowingly, into a large pod of very confused first years. They clumped together, practically frozen, staring up at the other students leaving the train, leaving the platform -

"Firs' years! Firs' years this way!"

A giant of a man was standing a few feet away from Remus, with a wild matted mane of dark hair and bright, beetle-black eyes under bushy brown eyebrows. From the looks of it, he seemed to wear a huge, weather-beaten old coat, and carried a lantern about as big as Remus. Some girls standing behind Remus squealed with fright. The man just chuckled. "No need ter be frightened!" he laughed. "I'm Hagrid - Keeper o' Keys and Grounds here at Hogwarts. Now you'll want ter follow me - we'll be leavin' for the boats in a few..." His voice faded as he pulled out a rusty pocket-watch that was more square than it was round. "That's them! Let's go," Hagrid declared, and, raising the lantern a bit higher, descended from the platform and headed towards what looked like a dock. The first years obeyed, but ruefully. For a moment, there was just the sound of robes swishing through grass and wind whistling through hair. Then the almost haunting noise of water lapping the shore...

"Aright, head in, no more than four to a boat!" Hagrid bellowed; the first years jumped and swarmed the rickety old boats tied up beside the dock. Remus glanced around nervously for a nearly-empty boat, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sirius and James already seated in one, beckoning. Well, James was flailing more than beckoning, but still.

Suddenly, he felt a hand slap his shoulder - a hand the size of a dustbin lid. Remus almost fell over. Startled, he turned round to see Hagrid standing there, somehow managing to look both fascinated and concerned at the same time. "Yer Remus, aren't ya?" he asked, in an unusually gentle voice.

"Y-yes," Remus squeaked, staring up at him. True, he was very large and rather intimidating, but there was a flicker of kindness in his beetle-black eyes.

"I've heard 'bout ya."

Remus nearly choked on his own tongue.

How did he know? How could he possibly know? Remus tried to relax himself. He hid his panicked expression with a mask of calm. "What?" His voice was

still shaky.

"I know what ya are."

Oh, no. Oh, no. Here it comes, Remus thought, with the all-too familiar feeling of oncoming dread. This giant of a man had discovered his secret. Now Remus was going to be forced to leave the school no doubt... his mother would be so disappointed... she had believed he'd finally found a place where he could learn and make friends... at Hogwarts...

This had to be a new record. Hagrid had found out his secret in five seconds flat.

Remus felt himself sag with disappointment. "I'll go now," he muttered, turning round against the sea of first-years. Behind him, Hagrid made a strange sound in his throat as he whipped Remus around again, almost sending him straight into the water.

"Hold on ther'! Yer not goin'! I just... well-" Hagrid paused awkwardly, then said hurriedly, "If yer ever are lonely, ya know, feel free to come on down and have a cup 'o tea."

As Hagrid turned away, Remus frowned at his retreating back. So... he wasn't going to be sent away? But... he knew! Hagrid knew!

The whole staff must know, Remus thought painfully, and something like fear jumped in the pit of his stomach. But the man... he didn't seem to be scared of Remus at all. It was almost like he was pleased. In fact, when he had just invited Remus to tea... there was something like understanding in his voice.

"Come on, budge up, make a space!" Hagrid bellowed at some frightened-looking first years, who quickly cleared a path for him as he made his way towards his own boat. Remus, surprisingly, found himself smiling after him.

At that moment, someone smashed into him from behind, knocking him to the ground. The dock, scratched and wooden as it was, scraped Remus's hands even worse. He winced as he felt new wounds rip the old ones open, blood slowly running down between his fingers.

"Move it, runt!" A thick-necked, muscley boy sneered. He and his cronies, each one just as big as he was (or bigger), pushed themselves forwards, shoving other first-years out of the way. No one stood up to them - that is, until they came face to face with a very short girl with thick red hair and bright green, almond-shaped eyes. Even from his place on the ground, Remus could see that freckles dotted her thin face. He recognized her... she was the girl who had been crying in his, James, and Sirius's compartment.

The girl didn't move. A stubborn look of resilience was on her face; it didn't twitch a bit. The girl behind her, however, looked very frightened. She tugged on the girl's arm, her straight brown hair flapping limply around her face. "Leave him be, Lily, he's not worth it!" she cried desperately. But the red-haired girl stood her ground.

The boy who had pushed Remus over (obviously the leader) got a sick, twisted smile on his face that made Remus's stomach turn. "Look lads, here's a catch!" he laughed, flicking a stray hair out of Lily's face, leaning in close. Immediately, Lily shrieked and did the first thing that came to mind - she slapped him. He was sent flying backwards.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" she screamed. The boy snarled - his hand went into his robes for his wand and brandished at Lily. At first, nothing seemed to happen. Then -

"Flipendo!" he shouted. There was a loud bang, and all of a sudden, Lily was gone, and there was a loud splash. It all happened in seconds - Lily had fallen into the lake.

"LILY!" The boy with greasy-hair and a hooked nose (Snivellus? Er... Severus) dashed to the edge of the dock, peering down into the depths. James, Remus could hear, wasn't worried at all. In fact, he was laughing.

"What's the matter, Snivellus?" James called loudly. "Have you lost your girlfriend?"

"I expect she's gone to go out with the giant squid - I would, rather than go out with you," hollered Sirius, roaring with laughter.

Wiping his bloodied hands on his robes, Remus pushed himself to his feet and went to stand beside Severus, who was staring down at the water anxiously.

"What do you want?" Severus murmured angrily; he sounded both furious and panicky.

Remus was silent for a moment. But suddenly, someone spoke on the other side of Remus.

"Er... isn't someone going to go get her?"

Remus turned. A second boy was standing off to his left, staring up at Remus expectedly. He was wider than Remus, and about a head shorter, but his small, watery eyes were wide and eager, in a way.

Severus heard him. Embarrassed, he lowered his head and muttered something about not being able to swim. Remus ogled him. "You can't swim?" He was honestly surprised. Even his parents had managed to find time to teach Remus how to swim; he remembered being confused and asking his mother why it was so important.

"It's an essential part of childhood!" she had replied playfully, slapping him with a dish towel. That had been one of the better years. They didn't have to move away for the best part of six months.

The boy on Remus's left ran a hand through his thick pale hair. "I can't swim either," he said pointedly.

By now, Severus was practically hopping up and down. "Someone has to get her, she's going to drown!" he screamed.

Finally, Hagrid glanced over at them. "What's goin' on here?" he grumbled, lumbering towards them.

"Lily's fallen in the lake - " Severus started.

"I'm getting her, sir," Remus heard himself state. Calmly, he pulled off of his robes, still wearing his loose white T-shirt and brown slacks underneath. He stepped out of his worn but warm sneakers - the cold wind ruffled his hair and bit his nose, causing his arms to erupt with goosebumps.

Severus eyed the scars on Remus's arms warily. "What happened?" he questioned, his eyes narrowing.

Thankfully, Remus was used to people asking about his scars, that is, if they ever saw them. "I have a cat," he said convincingly, and with that, dived straight into the lake.

He regretted it the moment he'd done it. The water was absolutely freezing - his hands and feet were completely numb. He couldn't even feel his own face. The blood in his veins seemed to have turned to ice.

Focus! Remus told himself firmly. He had to find Lily, and fast. He didn't have much time; either he would run out of air, or she would. He suspected the latter, as she had been underwater longer than he had. He just hoped he wasn't too late.

But Remus was in luck. Far, far below, he noticed a flash of red hair. It was her! But she was very pale, she wasn't moving, and her lips were blue. She floated lifelessly, her eyes closed and her mouth slack.

She was unconscious. That was never good. Furtively, he swam towards her and seized both her arms, dragging her behind him in a tow. As quickly as he could, Remus turned towards the surface of the lake and paddled upwards. At first, he had thought that this would be much slowly, as he was not able to use his hands because he was carrying Lily, but in fact, Remus found himself swimming faster than he normally would've been able. Bemused, he turned to look behind him, and was startled to see a huge, sucker-covered tentacle gently pushing Lily and Remus forwards, moving them along. Remus had heard rumors of a giant squid in the lake near Hogwarts, but he would have never believed it to be true…

Splash! He broke the water's surface, panting and choking and gasping for air. Lily, however, remained limp and lifeless, like a rag doll.

"Get outta the way!" roared Hagrid, who had seemed to take charge at last. One-armed, he tugged Remus and Lily out of the way. While Remus tumbled clumsily onto the dock, Severus hurried forwards.

"Will she be alright?" he yelled anxiously. Nearby, James and Sirius sniggered.

Hagrid didn't answer; he merely reached inside his moleskin coat and whipped out a large pink umbrella - he pointed it at Lily - she coughed - water came gushing out of her mouth -

"LILY!" Severus leapt forwards, rushing to her side. "Lily! Lily, are you alright?" Remus watched as Lily furtively flushed a bright pink, obviously embarrassed. But she clutched Severus's arm for support as she struggled to stand.

Hagrid, meanwhile, glared angrily at the boy who had jinxed Lily. "And I'll report ya later," he was saying. "I'll make sure to have a word with yer Head o' House once yer Sorted." At this, the boy's stubborn expression flickered; Remus chuckled a little as he reached down to retrieve his robes. No doubt the boy was frightened about the Sorting. He had probably heard that each first year had to battle a mountain troll in order to be Sorted. But Remus knew better. Dumbledore and his father had filled him in.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder, right on the place where he had been bitten. Instinctively, he jerked away, almost falling over, only to see the girl with the red hair standing there with wide eyes. Now she was wrapped in Hagrid's jacket, looking very small in the oversized coat. She was frowning slightly, staring down at Remus with those big green eyes.

Remus might've thought she was pretty if he wasn't so scared. "What?" he asked. His shoulder burned.

To Remus's surprise, her frown melted right off her face. "Thanks," she murmured, her gaze dropping. "For saving me, I mean."

Remus laughed a bit and stooped down to pick up his robes. "That's alright. It's these robes, isn't it? They're so heavy; it's impossible to swim in them, am I right?"

It took her a moment to realize that he was sparing her from embarrassment. "Oh…" She took on a serious expression. "Yes. Well."

"Yes," Remus repeated, lips pursed.

"Yes," she said again, trying her best to keep a straight face. Then, at the exact same time, they burst out laughing - she looked quite strange, flapping her arms in the too-long sleeves of Hagrid's moleskin coat. She smiled at him, extending a freckled hand. "I'm Lily. Lily Evans."

He saw himself grasp her hand and shake it warmly. "Hullo, Lily. I'm Remus."

"Remus what?" she asked jokingly.

"Lupin," he said, grinning. He noticed how small her freckled hand was in his pale, scarred one.

Just then, he heard James shout nearby. "Oy, Remus! Are you coming over here, or are you going to get married?"

Remus noticed Lily wrinkle her nose and depart for a separate boat with Severus while Remus headed over to Sirius and James; James's glasses were broken and Sirius had obviously been hit with a Tickling Charm. He was bent over, shoulders shaking with laughter.

Remus came over. "What happened."

"What happened?" James asked angrily, fingering his broken glasses. "Sirius is a prat, that's what."

"Finite," Remus muttered with a wave of his wand, pointing it at Sirius. He ran a hand wearily through his hair. "Something tells me I'm going to regret being friends with you two."

Sirius sat upright, grinning like a crazy person. "Nah," he said convincingly, flicking his dark hair out of his eyes. "Come on, get in, we'll be leaving in a second."

Remus stumbled into the boat and seated himself between James and Sirius ("So you won't kill each other," he told them.). It was hard to believe that the boats were magical; they were extremely rickety and looked like they might fall apart any second.

"Excuse me," someone murmured behind them. "Is there any - I mean, could I sit with you?" A boy stood there, the same boy who had spoken to Remus earlier. Quite short. Pale, blonde hair. Small watery eyes.

Remus smiled. "Sure." He watched as the boy clambered into the boat with them. "What's your name?"

"Peter," the boy said, returning Remus's smile. "Peter Pettigrew. Yours?"

James grabbed Peter's hand and shook it with both of his. "Pleasure to meet you, good sir. My name, which is much better than yours, by the way, is Sirius, after one of the stars in the noble constellation Canis Major-"

"I don't sound like that!" Sirius yelled, roughly shoving James, who was still talking.

"... and, if I might add, is the most admired constellation in the entire universe-"

Peter glanced at Remus. "Are they always like this?" he asked unnecessarily.

"Yes," Remus groaned.

Peter's grin widened, and he laughed a little. "Then we'll have to put up with them together, won't we? At least, for the time being."

Remus laughed too, a bit unnerved that everyone was being so friendly. But, as Peter had said before, he could enjoy himself… for the time being…

"I'm Remus," he said with an air of finality. "That's James, and he's Sirius, if you haven't figured that out already."

Peter smiled, Sirius grinned, and James chuckled. Remus leaned back, resting his hands on his knees. Perhaps this friendship would last longer than customary - for him, at least…

 

 

Hogwarts loomed over them. To Remus it seemed quite solitary, a huge, dark thing hidden in a shimmering cloud of mist, almost like it was waiting to be discovered. But despite looking cold and gloomy, the small windows and holes dotted around the castle's pointed towers glowed cheerfully, welcoming them to the magical school.

Remus had a sudden thought. I belong here.

Sirius, meanwhile, was complaining.

"I'm freezing," he muttered, folding his arms over his chest. "Could do with a hot water bottle right now, eh?"

Remus turned to him. "At least you didn't fall in the lake," he replied, just then realizing how cold he was. His teeth were chattering.

Peter grinned at him. "Blimey, looks like you just swallowed a whole box full of Ice Mice! Don't worry-" he added hastily, after seeing Remus's unamused expression. "I'm sure someone will dry you off before the Sorting."

They were interrupted by a loud knocking; Hagrid was pounding on a great door at least four times taller than he was. He banged three times on the huge oak door, and on the third time, it opened. A tall, severe-looking witch stood there, with spectacles perched on her nose and a black pointed hat sitting atop her head. "Yes, come in," she said, and the first years trickled inside, gazing around in awe at the entrance hall. The tall witch led them towards a second door, just as large as the first. She motioned for them to halt, and looked around at them with an expression that suggested extreme impatience.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said shortly. "I am Professor McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House, and it is my duty to inform you about the Sorting. Hogwarts is divided into four houses - Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin (she paused dramatically after each one). Each House has it's own strengths and weaknesses, and I assure you, there is no "best House" or anything of the sort."

James snorted obviously; McGonagall glared at him. "Your House is to be like your family ("I hope it's not like my family," Sirius murmured.). And here at Hogwarts, we have a points system. Each triumph you achieve will gain your house points; any rule-breaking, and you will lose points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points will be awarded the House cup, which is a great honour."

Out of the corner of his eye, Remus saw Sirius lean over towards James. "Five Galleons I can get more detentions than you by the end of the year."

"You're on," James said, his face oddly slack.

Peter frowned at them. "But you don't want to lose points, you want to get points! Didn't you just hear-"

"Yeah, but what fun is that?" Sirius said, grinning.

McGonagall cracked the door open and peeked through the crevice. Then closed it, smiling slightly. "We are ready for you now," she announced. Throwing open the door, she marched forwards, the awed first years trailing behind her.

What a sight. A gigantic, enormous room, ten times bigger than Remus's entire house stretched out before him. On the tiled marble floor stood four long wooden tables, each one seating several hundred students, and each one decorated differently. The one farthest to Remus's left was bedecked in green, then bronze, then blue, then red. Candles hovered above, shedding light upon the hall, illuminating the enchanted ceiling which appeared to look like a starry sky. The students seated at the tables, all different ages, whooped and cheered as the first years approached the front of the room, where a lone stool sat. Resting atop it was a very old, very wrinkled-looking hat.

Most of the first years stared up at McGonagall in surprise, and she stared back down at them. "Now, before we begin, Professor Dumbledore would like to say a few words." Right on cue, an elderly man rose from the main table and glided towards the podium set feet behind the stool with the hat. Remus recognized him immediately. It was Albus Dumbledore, no mistake.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. " I have a few start of term notices I wish to announce. The first years please note that the Forbidden Forest is strictly…" He smiled. "... forbidden to all students. Also, our caretaker, Mr. Filch-" He signaled towards a very ragged, very grumpy looking man clutching an equally testy-looking cat. " -would like express his feelings about the behavior of students past curfew. Unfortunately, I am unable to tell you this, as most of the words he uses are inappropriate. But as a matter of fact, I found the whole situation extremely amusing-" Dumbledore broke off, his eyes twinkling. "Thank you."

James watched as Dumbledore descended from the podium. "Is he always like that?" he asked. He sounded a bit worried.

"Yes," Remus said immediately. "Yes, he is."

Peter opened his mouth to reply, but abruptly, a burst of song was heard from the front of the hall. A large rip in the rim had opened widely, almost making the hat appear like it had a mouth - apparently it did, because it was singing gaily now perched atop the stool.

 

There once were two wizards

Two witches there were too

They brought themselves together

And made a magic school.

Each founder's goals were different

As was how they achieved their ends.

Born was Gryffindor, Hufflepuff,

Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.

The lion's house is Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart

Ravenclaw is for the clever ones, the logical, the smart

The badger claims the loyal, the friendly and the true

While Slytherin takes the cunning, no matter what you do.

This is my job, my work, you see

To Sort you, through thick and thin

And with these four Houses noble

Let the Sorting now begin!

 

Tentatively, the first years applauded, while the rest of the school cheered loudly. The hat, in response, bowed, then went back to looking like it was supposed to look like - an old hat. Remus was quite unnerved. Dumbledore had informed him about the Sorting Hat, of course, but it was still a hat. It wasn't supposed to talk.

McGonagall came forward again clutching a long piece of parchment; this time, she snatched up the hat and held both the hat and the parchment aloft. "When I call your name, you will come forth. I shall place the Sorting Hat on your head, and you will be sorted into your Houses." Casually, she glanced down at the list. "Albright, Priscilla!"

A very frightened little girl went to go sit down on the stool; McGonagall neatly place the hat on her head and stood back. For a few moments, everything was still. Remus watched the girl closely. Her mouth was moving, but her eyes were tightly closed. It looked like she was talking to herself. But suddenly, the hat sitting atop her head twitched.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The hat shouted. The girl smiled, obviously relieved, and went to sit down at the table clad in bronze. The students seated there shook her hand and patted her on the back, welcoming her to their House.

McGonagall peered through her square spectacles at the parchment before her. "Black, Sirius!"

Beside Remus, Sirius paled visibly and slowly made his way towards the Sorting Hat. James watched him go, frowning.

Peter noticed. "Did you know he was a Black?" he whispered.

"No," Remus and James said at the same time. Even Remus had heard of the Blacks; his father had often raved angrily about them. They were pure-blood obsessed, snotty, and extremely disrespectful to anyone who wasn't a pure-blooded witch or wizard. The Blacks were horrible, terrible people. At least, that was what his father had said.

"What?" James said hoarsely, staring after Sirius. "He can't be a Black; the Blacks are evil!" Apparently, James's parents had filled him in too.

Sirius slid awkwardly onto the stool, now looking as white as a sheet. Peter watched him, one eyebrow raised. "He doesn't look -" He paused. "Well, he isn't nasty, is he? Like a Black?"

James shook his head. "No." Then said darkly, "But he might turn out to be."

McGonagall set the Sorting Hat on Sirius's smooth black hair and swiftly stepped backwards. An argument had seemed to erupt between Sirius and the Hat: Sirius had his eyes screwed shut and has murmuring something very fast; the Sorting Hat was muttering audibly, though Remus couldn't make it out. Finally, the Hat nodded. It's rim opened wide-

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Suddenly, the hall was very silent. Frantic whispering broke out among the four tables, while the one farthest to the right, decorated in red, exploded with hollers of triumph. Sirius's grin couldn't have been wider as he descended from the stool and dashed towards the Gryffindor table. He took his seat quickly and waved at James, who seemed to have forgotten that Sirius was even related to the Blacks.

"He's gotten into Gryffindor! Well done, mate!" James called from across the hall; Sirius gave him the thumbs-up.

"He must have swallowed those Every Flavor Beans after all," Remus added, smirking.

Meanwhile, the Sorting continued.

"Braithwaite, Noah!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Barclay, Olivia!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Calveley, Ava!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

The first Slytherin. But the applause remained as loud as ever; the mass of green sitting at the table farthest to the left cheered the loudest. Remus watched Ava hop off the stool and go join the Slytherin table. He wondered whether or not she knew about Slytherin's notorious reputation.

"Dolan, Harper!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Evans, Lily!"

Lily flashed a wide smile at Remus and practically sprinted up towards the Sorting Hat; she wasn't wearing Hagrid's coat anymore and she seemed almost dry, though her hair still looked a little damp.

The hat barely touched her dark-red hair. "GRYFFINDOR!" it announced. Lily grinned as the whole hall exploded with applause.

"Garrad, Logan!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Halliday, Sebastian!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Kilbee, Addison!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Lupin, Remus!"

Remus's heart leapt up into his throat. His turn, already? His gaze locked onto the Sorting Hat, sitting there helplessly atop the tall wooden stool. Now that it was his turn… he was scared. He didn't want to be Sorted. What if he was Sorted into Slytherin?

Your House doesn't define who you are, Remus told himself defiantly, and advanced towards the front of the hall. It was then when he noticed that something odd had happened. All the wizards and witches seated at the staff table had swiveled round towards him, craning their necks and squinting, attempting to get a good glimpse of him. One tiny wizard with a shock of white hair was practically hopping up and down, trying to see. Remus felt himself go red. The whole teaching staff knew. Worriedly, he caught Dumbledore's eye; he just nodded and winked. Swallowing hard, he stepped up towards the Sorting Hat and clambered up onto it. Wringing his hands in his lap, Remus felt McGonagall place the hat on his head. It was so large it slipped down until it covered his eyes.

"Ah," the hat said immediately; Remus almost jumped. The hat was speaking to him! "Well, well, well. This is a first."

Remus didn't know what to say. "You know -"

"Of course I know," the hat snorted. "I can see inside your head, how else am I supposed to Sort you?"

Remus said nothing. He was embarrassed that he had been outspoken by a hat.

"Cleverness, lots of it, I see… Very talented for your age, but… hmm, not there, no… ah, there's something there, I see it, so perhaps… yes…

Remus's hands grew sweatier and sweatier in his lap. He gripped his wrist so hard his whole hand turned white.

"Good luck," the hat muttered suddenly, in a very different tone of voice. "You'll need it."

"Wait," Remus started. What did the Sorting Hat mean? Was it trying to warn him? "Wait what - ?"

"GRYFFINDOR!" the Sorting Hat proclaimed. Remus heard himself gasp with relief; he had been Sorted into the same House as Sirius and Lily! At that very moment, Sirius stood up at the Gryffindor table and, putting two fingers in his mouth, whistled. Lily stood up too, clapping and beaming.

Remus went to go sit beside Sirius, who had recalled a solemn demeanor. "Did the Sorting Hat say anything to you?"

Sirius paused for about a minute before answering. "Nah."

"You're a bad liar," Remus pointed out, turning back towards the Sorting.

"Mann, Lucas!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Am not," Sirius shot back loudly.

"Shh!" Lily scolded, applauding as Meadowes, Dorcas and McKimmon, Marlene both joined the Gryffindor table. They seated themselves next to Lily, who promptly struck up conversation.

"Nesbitt, Carter!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Ottley, Scarlett!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Pettigrew, Peter!"

Peter squirmed uncomfortably on the stool as the Sorting Hat was set atop his head. A full three minutes passed before the hat finally reached a conclusion.

"GRYFFINDOR!" Thus Peter joined them at the Gryffindor table.

"Potter, James!" James, now visibly pale, strode forwards. Only a few seconds later -

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"YES!" James shouted, pumping his fist. He dashed over to the Gryffindor table and smashed himself between Remus and Sirius. "I knew it, I knew it, I just knew it!"

"Snape, Severus!"

The hunched, bat-like boy Remus had seen in their compartment loped forward. The Sorting Hat was placed on his greasy black hair.

"SLYTHERIN!"

"No surprise there," Remus heard James mutter.

Peter grinned at them all from across the table. "Fantastic, isn't it?" he asked Remus, watching as Spack, Craven was Sorted into Ravenclaw. "We all know each other, and we've all been Sorted into Gryffindor. It's like fate, eh?"

"HO!" James said loudly before Remus could answer. "There's a looker - see her, Sirius?"

They all looked. St. Claire, Celia had just walked up to be Sorted, and McGonagall was now placing the Sorting Hat upon her blonde curly head. James was right, she was very pretty. Red lips and sapphire eyes that seemed to glimmer brightly, like two stars.

James spoke first. "She's mine."

"Is not!" Sirius objected.

"RAVENCLAW!" the hat burst out. James swore under his breath as he watched the girl smile happily and flounce over to sit at the Ravenclaw table.

The Sorting quickly passed after that, and after Vance, Emmeline was Sorted into Gryffindor, Dumbledore returned to his place behind the podium once again. He was smiling broadly.

"If you are all as famished as I am," he started, winking. "There is no more need for words. Let the feast - begin!" With this word, he lifted his arms into the air; suddenly, all four House tables were groaning under what seemed like pounds and pounds of food. Whole roast turkeys sat on platters, soups and stews simmered in silver tureens, fruit, vegetables, all kinds of crisps, pitchers and jugs of sparkling drink… Remus felt his mouth fall open. He'd never seen this much food in his entire life.

James, Peter, and Sirius, meanwhile, were cheerfully helping themselves.

"I can't believe it - I wasn't Sorted into Slytherin!" Sirius shouted triumphantly, helping himself to onion stew. "I can't wait to see what Mother and Father will say-"

"Congratulations, mate," James said, a very odd look on his face. Remus caught his eye; he was still pondering Sirius's pure-blood relatives, Remus could tell.

Peter, however, had noticed nothing, and had dived into the small mound of potatoes heaped on his plate. Remus watched him for a smile, slightly amused, but in the end decided to take a bit of soup and what he thought was a peach. He scanned the hall. Everyone, unsurprisingly, was helping themselves to food and drink. Snape was looking around at the table with wonder, just like Remus. Celia had made friends almost immediately at the Ravenclaw table; she turned to look over her shoulder, caught his gaze, and smiled. Remus felt himself blush and dropped his peach into his soup.

The feast vanished and desserts appeared. Remus abandoned his soup-soaked peach and took a sponge cake. "What do you think happens after we're done?" he asked the others, taking a bite.

James waved one airy hand, the other being covered in treacle tart. "My dad said that we follow our House prefects to the Common Rooms, then our dormitories. Five to a room, I think he said?"

Remus could feel his smile vanish. Dormitories. He would be sharing a room with four other boys for the rest of the school year, no doubt through his entire time at Hogwarts. Remus's mind raced… he wasn't sure he could keep his secret if things were kept like this…

Mouth still full of food, Peter leaned across the table towards Sirius. "Oy, who's that?" he asked, nodding at the back wall. A pale girl with wavy brown hair stood there, still dressed in her Muggle apparel and looking distinctly out of place. "She's looks a bit old to still be going to Hogwarts, doesn't she?"

James turned. "Andromeda!" he said brightly, waving. She saw him and waved back.

"That's 'cause she is," Sirius murmured, somewhat cross. "My cousin - Dumbledore sent her a message along with my Hogwarts letter - urgent, apparently." He stabbed a baked potato with his fork. "I think he wants her help with something."

So Sirius disapproved. Remus didn't know why. He might've been protective of her, but she was well older than he was. Perhaps Sirius had a grudge against Dumbledore…

"Alright, that's the time!" A very tall, big-eared boy called near the end of the table. He stood, and the rest of the Gryffindors stood with him; Peter, James, Sirius and Remus all stumbled to their feet. "Gryffindor first-years, follow me! The rest of you - well, you know where you're going!" The hall echoed with laughter as three-fourths of them departed.

The big-eared boy spoke again. "My name is Liam, Liam Haverstock. I'm one of your House prefects, and I'll be showing you your dormitories along with the Gryffindor Common Room, where you'll be spending most of your time."

"Told you," James hissed elbowing Sirius in the stomach. Sirius hit him.

"Right then, follow me!" Liam announced, and promptly turned on his heel, leading them quickly towards a spiral staircase. The gaggle of first-years noisily followed, but Remus felt a warm, long-fingered hand tug on his shoulder and spin him around. Professor Dumbledore stood there, smiling once again.

"Do you mind, Mr. Lupin?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly.

"Not at all," Remus began, a bit confused. Peter, James, and Sirius were as well. But Remus shoved them forwards, muttering out of the corner of his mouth, "It's fine," and followed Dumbledore up a different spiral staircase, made of marble and decorated elaborately with decorative carvings. Suddenly, the staircase seemed to lurch, Remus toppled over, and everything shifted, everything seemed to be moving, everything was spinning - !

"Professor!" Remus shouted, panicked.

Dumbledore was still standing beside Remus, hands folded in front of him. "Not to worry," he replied calmly. "It's just the staircases, they like to move. We'll be there in a moment."

Moving staircases and talking hats! Remus couldn't believe it.

After ascending another moving staircase, Dumbledore and Remus found themselves standing before a rather ugly gargoyle in front of a blank wall. No other students were in sight.

Dumbledore leaned forwards as if to speak to the gargoyle. "Pear drop," he said, very slowly and clearly.

"Correct," the gargoyle muttered hoarsely, and, to Remus's astonishment, shifted aside to reveal a huge oaken door. Dumbledore pushed open the door without hesitating and marched inside.

"Come in, Mr. Lupin. This is my office."

"Your office…" Remus strode inside after him; the door shut by itself - very gently, but he could hear the resounding click! that seemed to echo all around him. Dumbledore's office, was, in fact, very large and circular, and was no doubt one of the most fascinating rooms Remus had ever been in. It was a beautiful place, with gold-trimmed portraits on the walls and a floor made of marble. It was also full of odd little sounds. Many curious silver objects sat on short, flat tables, whirring and spinning and emitting puffs of smoke, each one shaped differently. Tucked in the corner was an enormous claw-footed desk, made out of a wood that looked very expensive. On that desk lay a large piece of parchment, obviously written upon earlier that day.

Dumbledore was standing in the center of the room, watching Remus very closely. "Do you know why you're here, Mr. Lupin?"

"Yes," Remus said immediately. "Er… actually, no. Well…" He paused embarrassedly. "I have an idea." His secret. His… condition.

"You are correct," Dumbledore said without questioning Remus further.

At that moment, the oaken door sprang open again and two women hurried inside - one, tall, and dressed all in white and carrying something heavy in her pocket, the other, dumpy, with flyaway grey hair and a patched, frayed hat. There was also an excessive amount of dirt under her fingernails.

"Ah, Poppy, Pomona!" Dumbledore said, smiling cheerfully. "I was just speaking to Mr. Lupin here-"

Both women's pleasant expression's melted, and they gazed at Remus rather sadly. He felt himself frown.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "This is Madam Pomfrey, Mr. Lupin - the Head Nurse here at Hogwarts - and this is Professor Sprout, your Herbology Instructor. These are the people who will be helping you with your transformations during the school year."

Remus's heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. "What?"

"Oh, don't worry." Dumbledore took on a more serious tone. "You won't be transforming inside the school." Silently, he crossed the room and turned to face an open window; he motioned for Remus to come closer. "You see here?"

Remus looked. The fogged glass and the misted grounds made it hard to see anything, but he managed to make out a huge, looming shape nearby. He could see roots about as thick as his own body, a mammoth trunk, and branches that were twisted, but looked surprisingly limber.

Remus frowned. "It's a tree."

"But not just any tree!" Professor Sprout piped up eagerly. "That's a Whomping Willow."

"A Whomping - ?"

"Willow," Dumbledore finished, yanking the curtains shut, blocking the tree from view. "It was planted solely for you, Mr. Lupin. On the evening of the full moon, Professor Sprout and Madam Pomfrey will lead you out of the school and towards the Whomping Willow."

"The tree will react, of course, it's in its nature-" Professor Sprout began again.

"Er - how, exactly?" Remus asked nervously.

Madam Pomfrey frowned over at Sprout. "It's called "whomping" for a reason," she murmured; Remus gulped.

"Professor Sprout has devised a way to calm the tree momentarily. When she has, Madam Pomfrey will lead you down into a tunnel beneath the Whomping Willow," Dumbledore continued, locking eyes with Remus. "She will lead you into a shack in a small village near here - Don't worry, it will be perfectly safe," he added, when Remus opened his mouth. "We've taken all the necessary precautions."

Remus could feel himself getting warmer and warmer. He had never heard a plan where so many things could go wrong. What if they didn't get to the tree in time? What if Sprout couldn't calm the Whomping Willow? What if He broke out of the shack and attacked someone? Remus shuddered. He could barely think about it.

Dumbledore, meanwhile, was steering Remus towards the door. "It's late, you ought to get off to bed," he said coolly. "Gryffindor, yes? The password, I believe, is 'Dictum Factum'... true, very true indeed…" And just like that, Remus found himself on the opposite side of the office door, standing there, startled and quite confused.

He headed up the next staircase in a dreamy state; it took him a while to realize that he actually didn't know where he was going. And he didn't until a portrait of an irritating monk screamed at him and gave him directions, demanding that he stop clumping up and down the stairs like an elephant. Flushed and sweaty, Remus finally arrived at the so-called Gryffindor Common Room entrance - a framed painting of a Fat Lady. She frowned down at him, her brown acrylic eyes narrowing.

"Password?" she demanded.

Remus was breathless; he had ran up and down several stairs. "Wha - oh, yeah, Di- Dictum Factum."

The portrait swung open and Remus rushed inside. How late was he? Late enough, apparently, because the Common Room was completely empty. The squashy, red armchairs were bare, and the fire in the fireplace had gone out - it was still smoking. Remus found the whole situation rather sad.

At that moment, Sirius came sliding down something out of nowhere; a banister of a staircase, leading up to somewhere Remus couldn't see. Sirius, of course, wasn't looking where he was going, and didn't bother to slow down. He fell right on top of Remus.

"OOMPH!"

Sirius glanced down. "Oh, there you are. We were wondering where you'd gone to."

"So was I," Remus muttered, pushing Sirius off him and getting to his feet. "Is this the Common Room? Do you know where my dormitory is? Who are my roommates?" He did his best not to sound anxious while asking all these questions, but he knew he failed miserably. Sirius, thankfully, did not seem to notice. His face lit up like a beacon.

"OH! Yeah, I know who your roommates are. In fact, they're the best people ever, and… oh, oh, there's this one guy who's really good-looking, and I think his name is Sirius - !"

Remus groaned. "Are you kidding me?"

Sirius frowned. "No! I swear, he's really good-looking!"

Remus found himself smirking. "Fine. Let me guess - I'm sharing a dormitory with you, James, and Peter?"

"Yep."

Remus counted on his fingers. "Then… who's the other one? Didn't James say that there were five to a dormitory?"

Sirius's grin, if possible, got even wider. "That's the best part! See, James was right, there are five to a dormitory. But the thing is - we got the very last room, and that one only has space for four…"

"I'm not going to survive the first semester," Remus murmured, beginning to ascend the winding staircase leading to his dormitory. It was, in Sirius's case, a joke, but Remus meant it literally as well. He was already friends with the four boys in his dormitory… no doubt they would tell everything about themselves… no secrets, no lies…

Remus swallowed. He just had to make sure they didn't find out his biggest secret of all.


	5. Sirius's Remorse

Peter was the first person in his dormitory to wake. It was rather early, he supposed, but he was morning person and he guessed that that was one of those habits that never really changed.

Yawning, he sat up and rubbed his eyes. Daylight was streaming through an open window, but inside the dormitory, it was still quite dark, and the rest of his roommates were apparently all still sleeping. James was upside-down in his bed with his feet on his pillow, his broken glasses askew on his face; Sirius was snoring loudly, his head lolling. Remus, however, couldn't be seen, as the curtains around his bed had been yanked shut. Carefully, Peter listened. He couldn't hear anything, except Sirius's snoring. He wondered if Remus had even come to bed at all last night.

As if on cue, Remus appeared, stepping out of a small room adjoining to their dormitory; Peter guessed it was the bathroom (Remus's hair was wet). He had already changed into his robes.

"'Morning," Remus murmured, making his way towards his bed. "Sleep okay?"

Peter let out another huge yawn. "Yeah. You?"

"Fine… Dumbledore kept me a bit late - He had a message from my parents," he added quickly, noting Peter's curious expression.

Peter felt himself frown, then shrugged. He guessed that Remus was one of those people who always seemed mysterious… or perhaps, he wasn't telling Peter everything…

Sirius let loose another huge snore. Both Peter and Remus jumped. "Good Lord," Remus muttered, running a free hand through his own hair. "I'm surprised I slept at all last night."

"Me too." Peter smiled and hopped off his bed, scanning Sirius up and down like he was a room that needed furnishing. "Isn't there a Silencing Charm we could use...?"

"Good point," Remus said thoughtfully, now rummaging through his trunk for his wand. "Let me see… ah, here it is." He pointed his wand at Sirius. "Silencio."

Sirius immediately went quiet, but his mouth was still hugely open, looking very awkward and unattractive. Peter chuckled. "Does anyone have a camera handy?" he whispered. Remus snorted loudly through his nose.

A loud thumping noise interrupted them; James had fallen off his bed onto the floor. He sat up dizzily, looking annoyed and irritated, his broken glasses dangling off the tip of his nose. "Stupid… stupid bed..." he moaned, as Peter and Remus roared with laughter. "Oh, very funny," he said acidly. "While you two have been giggling like a pair of schoolgirls-" Then he caught glimpse of Sirius, open-mouthed, looking quite deranged. "What happened to Sirius?"

"This," Remus replied, raising his wand and removing the charm. The wall-shaking snores returned, and the whole dormitory seemed to tremble.

"TURN IT OFF!" James shouted, clapping his hands over his ears. Hastily, Peter rushed over and threw the covers over Sirius's head, while Remus yanked the curtain hanging around the bed closed. The noise was muffled slightly. James sighed. "Blimey," he said, tugging his robes out of his trunk. "That's like a foghorn, that is."

Peter watched as the lump in the blankets that was Sirius shifted a few inches. Then glanced down at his watch. "We have to go breakfast soon, if we want to get to our first class on time. Someone should wake him."

There was silence for a moment. Then-

"I'll do it," groaned Remus finally, approaching Sirius's bed. Pulling the curtains aside, he shook Sirius's shoulder. "Sirius. Wake up." No response. "Sirius, mate. It's time to get up." Nothing. Sirius stirred a little, but otherwise, nothing happened. "Sirius!" Remus said a bit louder, wrenching the sheets off of him. Sirius just turned over and snored louder.

"I don't know if I can take more of this," James said, his hands pressed over his ears again.

Peter came to stand by Remus. "Maybe he can't hear you," he suggested helpfully.

Remus took a few deep breaths. "Right." He leaned in towards Sirius so that his mouth was right next to his ear. He took another deep breath, then hollered, "SIRIUS BLACK!"

"AAAAHHHH!"

Sirius's eyes had snapped open and he had leapt practically five feet in the air, all while letting out a piercing scream and flailing his arms, barely missing Remus's face. He then toppled off the edge of his bed onto the floor with a loud, "ouch!"

"And I thought Sirius's snoring was loud enough," James grumbled.

"Steady on!" Sirius complained, clumsily getting to his feet. He stared at Remus, who was staring back with bemusement. "What was that for?"

Remus didn't answer. He just smiled like it was that was the funniest thing he had ever seen, and bent down to retrieve his schedule. "We have History of Magic first today," he announced formally.

Sirius frowned slightly. "Are you having a laugh?"

"Obviously not," James chuckled, swinging his bag over his shoulder. "Let's go down to breakfast, I'm starving."

Together, they seized their books and hurried out of the dormitory and through the Common Room; a few students lingered there, either talking or eating or riffling through their new spellbooks. James led the way down a couple staircases before getting lost in a matter of minutes. Sirius led them from there - he had an excellent sense of direction.

Ten minutes later, they arrived in the Great Hall, which was very nearly empty except for a couple first years, who were hurriedly finishing their breakfast.

"We're going to be late," James said unnecessarily, flinging himself down at the Gryffindor table and helping himself to toast and a kipper.

"Yeah, but they ought to give us leeway on the first day, eh?" Sirius said, heaping his plate full of eggs. "Pass the marmalade, will you?"

Just as James predicted, they were late for their first class. By the time they arrived at the History of Magic classroom, they were all red and flustered and muttering excuses under their breaths. But as they entered, the professor took no notice of them. In fact, the professor didn't even look at them; he just kept on speaking about goblin wars and such in a dreadfully boring, monotonous voice. He had to be the dullest person in the world, Peter thought. But now that he looked closer, he saw that their professor wasn't even a person at all. He was a ghost… hovering a few feet above the floor, and completely and utterly transparent - Peter had a hard time keeping track of his movements. He knew that he ought to be surprised, but at this point, he wasn't. This is a magic school, with talking hats and moving pictures. Why couldn't it have ghosts as well?

Sirius and James seemed to be thinking the same thing as Peter, but Remus looked astonished. He didn't take his eyes of the ghost once during the entire lesson. How he managed it, Peter didn't know. The whole thing was very tedious and uninteresting; it was just the professor (Binns, he was called) giving a lecture, his voice never varying. Sirius, being as tired as he was, quickly fell asleep again, his snores muted somewhat with his face in his arms.

Their next class was Charms, a lesson they all enjoyed, taught by Professor Flitwick, a tiny wizard with white hair who had to stand on a stack of books in order to see over the top of his desk. That day, they learned a useful little spell Flitwick called, "Wingardium Leviosa," which was used to make things levitate.

"Now remember, it's swish and flick!" Flitwick said, demonstrating with his own wand. "Let's see you all try. It takes the incantation and the wand movements in order for the spell to work, so it may take some practice-"

Lily Evans (a fellow Gryffindor) however, had already sent multiple objects hovering in the air with the charm and was grinning broadly. James and Sirius attempted the spell and set each other's hair on fire.

Saying the spell aloud, Peter pointed his wand at Remus's quill; it gave a pathetic little twitch, but otherwise it did not move. Remus smiled. "It's in the wrist," he said gently, pointing. "Don't be afraid to flourish your wand - that's what the 'swish' is. See?"

And Remus performed the spell on his Charms textbook. Peter watched as it slowly rose a few inches of the desk. Swish and flick, Peter firmly told himself. He pointed his wand. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

To his great delight, the book shook a bit and rose about another foot, coming to a sudden halt inches above Remus's head. "I did it!" Peter exclaimed triumphantly. "Did you see that, I did it!"

"Well done," Remus said, grinning as he watched Professor Flitwick extinguish James and Sirius's flaming heads with a Water Charm.

 

 

The morning went by quickly. In no time, it was after noon, and Peter, Remus, James, and Sirius were seated once again at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, discussing their classes.

"I still think Potions is rubbish," Sirius said right away, grabbing a handful of crisps. "It's obvious that Slughorn's got favourites, ain't it?"

"So's History of Magic," said Peter dully. "I could barely keep my eyes open."

"I couldn't keep my eyes open," Sirius muttered.

"What about Charms?" James asked abruptly, his plate stacked high with sandwiches. "That was fun, wasn't it?"

"You and Sirius nearly burnt your hair off," Remus pointed out amusedly.

"So?" James demanded.

"Nothing," Remus said, grinning. "What do we have in the afternoon; does anyone know?"

Peter retrieved his schedule from his bag. "Double Herbology, and Defense Against the Dark Arts," he read, squinting down at it. "We have Herbology with the Hufflepuffs - Greenhouse One, it says. Shall we go?"

"Sure," Sirius said, stuffing a spoonful of thick green stew into his mouth. He then let out a noise of great disgust and spit it out onto his plate.

James laughed, obviously delighted. "Gross."

Sirius was distraught. "Disgusting, that is!" he complained. "It's gone manky, I swear!"

"I like it," Remus said mildly.

They tromped out of the Great Hall and out onto the grounds, where five luscious greenhouses could be seen. A small, plump witch with flyaway grey hair stood nearby the one closest to the castle, smiling and waving gaily. She motioned for the first-years to gather around her.

"Good afternoon, everyone, and welcome to Herbology! My name is Professor Sprout, and I'll be your Herbology instructor for your time here at Hogwarts. Now - has everyone got a copy of Phyllida Spore's One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi?"

In response, they waved their textbooks in the air. Peter heard Sirius mutter to James, "Damn. I've gone and left mine in our dormitory."

Professor Sprout didn't hear him. "Alright, then! Let's head in!" And with a wave of her wand, the door to Greenhouse One swung open, and she strode inside, the first-year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs following curiously behind her.

Walking into the greenhouse was like walking into a different world. Everywhere, there were plants of all shapes and sizes, all emitting some sort of strange noise. Some shrieked, some squeaked, and a particular cluster of yellow daffodils were honking loudly in the back of the greenhouse.

"Right." Professor Sprout said briskly, turning around so she could face the first-years. "This is Greenhouse One, where you'll be spending most of your Herbology lessons for your first year at Hogwarts… yes, Miss Millay?"

A skinny, pale-haired Hufflepuff had raised a shaky hand. "P-Professor… what are those?" he asked shakily, pointing a trembling finger.

Peter looked where she was pointing. Tucked in the right back corner of the greenhouse sat several bags of what looked like wriggling orange tubers, accompanied by bouncing, yellowish bulbs that looked vaguely like onions.

Professor Sprout chucked. "No need to be frightened!" She led the group towards the moving things. "We'll just be potting Bouncing Bulbs today; the worms will help with growth and'll provide some extra food for the bulbs -"

"Extra food?" Sirius muttered, obviously disgusted.

"Come on, each person grab a bulb and a bag of worms, it's not hard," Professor Sprout said promptly. Reluctantly, Peter, James, Remus and Sirius each grabbed some worms and an armful of bulbs and returned to their table, Sirius now edging away from the snaky orange tubers.

"What's your deal?" James asked, watching Sirius enjoyingly.

"Why do they move like that?" Sirius said, scooting further and further away from them.

"You serious?" Peter asked, the corners of his mouth twitching. He found it quite amusing; tough, rebellious Sirius scared of something like this…

"Yes. Yes, he is," James snorted.

Professor Sprout was now issuing instructions about how to plant their Bouncing Bulb; Remus had gone to get some dirt and fertilizer from the front of the greenhouse, and now the whole place was filled with excited sounds as the first-years rushed to get as many Bouncing Bulbs planted as possible. At that moment, a tall, tan muscley Gryffindor with a thick neck (his name was Martin Lancaster, Peter remembered from when Professor Sprout had taken roll call) approached their table, his eyebrows drawn together in a permanent scowl. Peter hated him the moment he laid eyes on him - he was the one who had jinxed Lily down at the dock. Despite this, he did his best to try and sound polite.

"Hullo, do you need something?" he asked.

"No," Martin replied stiffly. He gazed down at Sirius, who was staring back up at him with a stony expression. "I was just wondering how this moronic, bullying Slytherin spawn got Sorted into Gryffindor."

James got to his feet so fast he almost knocked the table over. The Bouncing Bulbs went flying. "Say that again!" James shouted, his fists clenched tightly in fists.

Martin looked at him, seemingly bored. "Oh, you don't know, then? Alright. Just wondering," he drawled, and wandered away.

James leaned over the table, breathing hard. Apparently it had taken a lot of energy to restrain his anger. "Prat," Peter heard James mutter. Peter had the feeling that James didn't like bullies very much. Roughly, he pulled James back into his seat. "Why does he have to be in our year?" James muttered, staring distastefully at the writhing orange worms.

"Do you know him?" Peter asked, trying to calm him down a bit.

James ran a free hand through his hair. "Nah," he said, relaxing a little. For a moment, he watched the other students milling around. "I just don't like bullies that much… still, every school's got one of those, eh?"

"Yeah," said Peter, not really listening. He was looking at Sirius, who looked positively grey. He was staring down at the floor underneath the table, not moving at all. He seemed to be blocking out the entire world.

"Er…" Uneasily, Peter reached over and tapped Sirius's arm. "You alright, mate?"

Slowly, Sirius raised his head and looked at Peter, who almost fell off the bench in surprise. Sirius's eyes… they looked dead.

"Yes," Sirius whispered. "Yes, I'm fine." He obviously wasn't, his voice sounded dead as well.

James turned to look at Sirius now. "No, you're not." There was an air of finality in his voice. "Don't listen to Lancaster, he's just a stupid -"

Sirius's lips moved soundlessly for a moment before he finally spoke. "I know Martin. He's a family friend."

"What?" Peter and James said at the same time. A family friend… Sirius was a Black, Peter had almost forgotten…. That was why Martin had called Sirius "Slytherin spawn"... But if Martin was a family friend, wouldn't he be obligated to the same insults he had given Sirius?

Sirius kept gazing at them almost mournfully, then stared down into his lap again. At that exact moment, Remus came back over, his hands soiled and carrying a huge sack of dirt. "I swear, I'll smell for weeks," he was complaining, setting the bag down beside their table. "I'm not exactly sure how we should do this, I heard Professor Sprout say that -" Just then, he noticed James and Peter with their mouths agape and Sirius staring sadly at the floor. "What…" Remus started, his voice fading.

"Lancaster," James said angrily.

"Ah. Was he the one throwing dragon dung at everyone earlier? Because I do believe that won't be Professor Sprout's preferred type of fertilizer for much longer."

Peter stared up at Remus, who was ruffling his hair and looking down at the top of Sirius's head. Remus probably had to be the weirdest bloke he'd ever seen. Not only did he speak oddly, like he'd never been around another human being in his life, but he had this very strange look about him. Like he'd been living a cave for the past ten years and he'd just decided to come out. Almost… shrunken.

Peter watched as Remus squashed himself between James and Sirius. "Feel alright?" he asked, like Sirius had just stubbed his toe.

"Is he bullying you because you're a Black?" burst out James furiously; Peter gave James a warning glance. Obviously Sirius was uncomfortable speaking about his family. This probably wasn't the best time to bring it up…

Sirius seemed to think so as well. But nonetheless, responded. "Yes." He looked worried, yet angry.

"Well, why would he do that?" James asked indignantly. "He's just as bad as you are, worse, I'd say -"

Remus frowned. So did Peter. "That's not helping," he pointed out.

"I hate them," Sirius said suddenly, shaking with fury. "My family, they're a bunch of self-righteous prats-"

"So is Lancaster, what difference does it make?" spat James.

"The Blacks are more… well, obvious," whispered Sirius, wringing his hands in his lap. "They're pureblood obsessed, they're violent, they're vicious and hate anyone who isn't -"

James interrupted. "But you don't, do you?"

Sirius was startled. "What?"

"You're not pureblood obsessed, you're not violent - well, you are sometimes -"

"You've haven't even known me for a full day!" Sirius protested.

James held out his broken glasses for Sirius to see. "Look what you did yesterday!"

"Here, let me." Between James and Sirius, Remus was smiling, though his face was rather blank. "Occulus Reparo."

Peter watched as the glasses magically mended themselves. Beside him, James grinned brightly and slammed the glasses back onto his face. "The point is, Sirius, you're not like your family. You're not a Black, not if you don't want to be."

Sirius's eyes got wider and wider as he began to process just what James was saying. Peter could imagine what Sirius was thinking: He didn't have to be a Black. He didn't have to be a puffed-up, power-crazy lunatic who always stuck by the rules and was obsessed with petty, unimportant things… He didn't have to be a Black!

Sirius then leapt to his feet, shouted some garbled nonsense, and flung the bag of wriggling orange worms at Martin Lancaster - it hit him smack in the face and burst, causing putrid, jelly-like sludge to leech out, staining his robes.

 

 

"That was bloody brilliant!" James roared as they trekked back towards the castle. Sirius's sudden act of rebelliousness had taken its toll - ten points from Gryffindor - but it had been worth it, seeing Martin's look of disgust as he pulled the writhing orange things from his robes; they had small, sucker-like mouths, and had refused to come off of him. James had been laughing for five solid minutes, and even now his laughter had not ceased. Sirius was grinning broadly, while Peter felt himself smile as well, feeling happy that one of his close friends was happy. Remus, however, was the only one was recalled a serious demeanor; he was searching around in his bag for his schedule.

"What have he got next?" he wondered aloud.

Sirius glanced over at Peter. "Defense Against the Dark Arts is what you said, right?"

"That's right."

They made their way through the Great Hall and down another corridor, soon finding themselves in classroom that was totally bare. No sort of picture or poster hung on the walls, the floor was wooden - creaky and unfurnished - only tables, rickety and unstable (only able to seat two), stood there, accompanied by equally uncomfortable-looking straight-backed chairs.

James looked around for a moment, confused. "Peter, check the schedule. Are you sure you've got the right room?"

Bemused, Peter tugged out his schedule. "Yes… it's correct," he murmured. Then why did this room look so… ancient? And unprepared?

Sirius yanked the same schedule out of Remus's bag and checked it against Peter's. "It's the same," he announced after a few moments. "What do you reckon?"

"Either we're mistaken, or the professor's taste in creativity is rubbish," Remus muttered, glancing down at the schedule with Sirius. "Come on, let's get good seats."

They grabbed the chairs in the front of the room and placed their books and bags there, wandering aimlessly around the place. By that time, the rest of the first-years had arrived and were asking the same questions as they had. As more and more students arrived, the classroom gradually got louder and louder. Soon everyone was practically yelling at the top of their lungs.

There was a flash of movement near the door; for a moment, Peter thought that the professor had finally arrived, but soon saw that it was just another student. Lily Evans stood flushed against the doorway, her cheeks red and her clothes rumpled.

"I'm sorry I'm late Professor, I was -" She stopped when she noticed there was no teacher there, and that she was, in fact, addressing the whole class, which had fallen silent. Furtively, she blushed with embarrassment and hurried towards an empty table at the back of the classroom.

Peter watched her unpack her things, her face a deep set red, the exact same colour of her hair. Remus, who was sitting beside Peter, shook his head, stood up, and slowly made his way towards the back of the classroom. The moment he reached her desk, he smiled. Peter saw him speak to Lily for a minute, but he couldn't make out the words. Then he pointed to the front of the room; Peter saw her glance distastefully at James and Sirius and shake her head. Remus spoke quietly to her for a few more seconds - she sighed loudly, picked up her things, and brought them to the front of the classroom, where she sat down at the table next to Remus and Peter's. Remus followed her and took back his seat, still smiling.

"What happened?" hissed Peter as Remus tugged his textbook out of his bag.

"Lancaster," Remus murmured softly. "He's - er… trying to get her attention."

"We're only in our first year!" said Peter immediately. Remus stared at him, bewildered.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

At that moment, the door to the classroom flung open once more, and this time, a very tall, very thin man strutted inside, closely followed by Martin Lancaster.

"Excellent!" he heard Sirius mutter excitedly to James. "The professor's caught him, now we're going -"

"Please take your seat, Mr. Lancaster," drawled the professor, sounding suspiciously like Martin. While James and Sirius exchanged puzzled looks, Martin smirked and took the seat besides Lily. She groaned audibly; at once, the professor noticed.

"Please refrain from complaining in my class Miss Evans. Five points from Gryffindor."

Sirius let out an obvious cry of protest, despite the fact that he had been docked earlier as well. "The class hasn't even started yet, why should you take points from her?"

"I am at complete liberty to take points from whoever and whenever I like, Mr. Black," the professor sneered. "To prove my point… five more points from Gryffindor… for not living up to your family standards."

After hearing this, Sirius was quiet and grew very pale. He stared down into his lap again and did not say another word.

Peter felt something like hatred twist in the pit of his stomach. How unfair! Yes, the professor was at liberty to dock points from his students, but certainly not as freely as this! Peter felt like he should speak up about this, but he kept quiet. He would only lose even more points for Gryffindor.

The professor looked out at them all, unsmiling. "I am Professor Lancaster," he snarled. "And I will be instructing you on how to defend yourselves against the Dark Arts this term. However, I regret to inform you that I indeed will be leaving after the Christmas Holidays, as I have urgent business to attend to." He stopped suddenly there, eyes narrowed, glaring unpleasantly at them all. "Well? What are you waiting for? Take out your books and read Chapter One. Chapter Two will be assigned as homework."

It was quite possibly the dullest thing Peter had ever read. Perhaps, he would've found it interesting if the class hadn't been at the end of the day, when his stomach was growling, or that he just wanted to go back into his dormitory and collapse on his lovely, soft, four-poster bed…

 

 

"Defense Against the Dark Arts wasn't nearly as good as I thought it would be," Remus murmured quietly as they set off for the Great Hall for supper. "But then again - he isn't a very pleasant person, is he?"

"Be careful," muttered Sirius darkly. "I wouldn't want to be you if little Marty caught you saying that about his dad."

Remus grinned. "You're right. But Martin isn't very little, is he?"

"Not at all," Sirius replied, smirking. Peter heard himself sigh with relief. Sirius no longer seemed to care what his family thought, despite the fact that the Lancasters were a Black family friend, and they were very likely to report Sirius's behaviour to his father and mother. Peter, however, decided not to say this. Sirius was happy, and that was all that mattered for now.

James, like Peter, seemed to be pondering all of this as well. But instead of keeping quiet, he said, "Why didn't you tell us before, Sirius?"

Sirius looked rather alarmed. "What?"

"Why didn't tell us before?" asked James. "That you were a Black?"

Sirius suddenly became interested in the floor; Peter could practically feel the air around them become tenser. "I thought that… well, you would… I mean - you wouldn't like -"

"If you think we wouldn't like you just because you were a Black, you're bloody barmy!" James exploded. Peter watched as Sirius smiled bleakly, then suddenly said,

"You didn't have to hold out on us, mate."

Sirius's smile gradually got wider. "Sorry." Remus, meanwhile, was watching them both with his mouth slightly open.

James sighed, sounding almost relieved. "Today was quite possibly the best and the worst day of my life," he murmured faintly, running a hand through his hair.

"But you haven't had a very long life, have you James?" Sirius pointed out smartly.

"You won't either, Sirius, if you keep being so cheeky," James chortled.

Sirius hit him.


	6. Snivellus Snape

The next few days passed without incident. Lessons were almost always the same as the ones previous them; James found himself getting extremely bored and glancing up at the clock every five seconds. The only class he really liked that that had was Charms - he was absolutely rubbish at Potions and despised History of Magic, Astronomy was okay (Sirius was surprisingly enthusiastic about it), and he didn't even try in Herbology. Defense Against the Dark Arts was an entirely different story. He absolutely loathed it… perhaps he hated the teacher even more. Professor Lancaster was (if possible) even worse than his son. He was round-faced and thick-necked, like Martin, but he was surprisingly thin-mouthed, and had a hoarse, croaky voice that sounded somewhat like a frog that had a head cold. Most of the time, Lancaster paced the front of the room, lecturing them about curses and hexes while they took notes, tense and alert, like they were expecting someone to creep up behind them and whack them. Sometimes they divided into pairs and attempted simple charms and jinxes on each other, but not often. But Professor Lancaster docked Gryffindor points every class, and blamed Sirius for every point taken. He also seemed to insult Sirius every chance he got, and constantly mentioned the Blacks and their "honourable pure-blood heritage." Then he would glance at Sirius, obviously disgusted, and would continue with the lesson as if nothing had happened.

Thankfully, the rest of Gryffindor House had the same view of Professor Lancaster, with the exception of Martin and his cronies. To James's great surprise, Martin had more people on his side than James had thought he would. Not only had he swayed his roommates, but the whole of Slytherin House, though Sirius claimed they had always thought that way in the same place.

"But not all Slytherins can be bad," James remembered Peter muttering during one uneventful Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

Remus actually stopped taking notes and turned to look at them, which was a great achievement, seeing as Remus was the only one of them who would pay attention during lessons. "He's right, isn't he?" he mused. "You can't just create a stereotype based off a few people you know, can you?"

"You don't know them," Sirius had murmured darkly.

"Mr. Black!" Professor Lancaster had snarled. "Is there something you'd like to share with all of us?" Sirius had raised his head and opened his mouth, but Lancaster continued before Sirius even had time to speak. "That's another five points from Gryffindor."

Sirius had sunk even lower in his seat. "You see?" he had whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

Despite all of this, James found himself enjoying Hogwarts. He found the classes easy, even without paying attention, and he found learning the magic easier. He liked his dormitory, the meals they served in the Great Hall… he even grew fond of the moving staircases, which lurched every time they moved and had a tendency to make James fall over. Everything was almost perfect.

"When'd you think they'll let us try out for Quidditch?" said James as he swung his legs over the arm of a chair in the Gryffindor common room. It was late on a Friday; their first week finished at Hogwarts. But somehow they had managed to acquire a heavy load of homework to finish over the weekend - Remus had decided to get a head start on it. He was lying on his stomach in front of the fireplace, adjusting his reading glasses on his nose as he leaned further and further in towards his book. Sirius sat in the chair opposite James, shirt untucked and arm draped over the back of the chair. Peter, meanwhile, was sitting on the floor in between them, going through James's extensive collection of Chocolate Frogs, bleary-eyed.

"You know, I don't think first-years get to play Quidditch," said Peter, yawning. He shuffled through a few more cards. "How many Agrippa cards do you have? I swear I've counted at least fifty so far-"

James groaned loudly. "What? What about… ugh." He rolled his eyes. "I saw the Gryffindor Quidditch team practicing this morning."

"Yeah?" Sirius smirked at James. "And what do you reckon?"

James snorted. "I reckon they're rubbish."

Peter glanced up at them, eyes swiveling back and forth between James and Sirius. "Really? Are they that bad?" he asked worriedly.

"Yes," James said with an air of finality. "I even spoke to Ayres about it afterwards-"

"Ayres?" interrupted Sirius frowning. "He's the Captain of the Gryffindor Team, isn't he?"

"Yeah," nodded James. "I told him that his team wasn't aligning properly: there are a bunch of holes in their Advance Formation, the Chasers must be blind or something -"

Remus spoke up suddenly from his place on the floor. "Now, I don't know much about Quidditch," he said quietly, not bothering to take his eyes off of his book. "But I imagine Ayres wasn't too chuffed about that, was he?"

"No, he wasn't!" said James angrily. "He chucked me off the field, in fact!" Frustrated, he punched the chair, his tight fist sinking deep into the plush material. "I can't wait until I get into Quidditch… I'll outplay them all, the-"

"Shall we go to bed?" said Peter hastily. Out of the corner of his eye, James saw Remus smile a little.

"No," scoffed Sirius, flipping his long dark hair out of his eyes. "It's barely ten -"

"And it's our first Friday at Hogwarts!" James added, glancing at Sirius out of the corner of his eye. Sirius grinned.

Remus raised his eyebrows. "Whatever you guys are planning, I'll not be involved."

Sirius pretended to look shocked. "Why, Remus! What would ever make you think something like that?"

Remus rolled his eyes and pulled his glasses off his face, neatly folding them up and putting them in his pocket. "Well, I agree with Peter - I'm turning in… I'm finished."

"Finished?" James felt his mouth fall open. "With all of it?"

"The summary on wormwood isn't that hard James, I don't know why you were complaining so much about it - all you have to do is take notes on the chapter and look up it's properties in the index-"

"Alright, alright!" shouted Sirius, clamping his hands over his ears. "We've heard enough, we'll do it tomorrow. Happy?"

Remus smirked at them as he got to his feet; James noticed that he was shaking a little. "Right." And he disappeared up to the staircase leading towards the boys' dormitories. Peter was quick to follow, still clutching James's Chocolate Frog Cards.

Sirius glanced over at James again. "What do you reckon?" he asked quietly.

His inquiry took James by surprise. "What?"

Sirius jerked his head towards the staircase that Remus and Peter had ascended. "What do you think of them? You reckon they're decent?"

James stared at Sirius. It was an odd question to ask, seeing as Sirius had already seemed to have grown fond of both Remus and Peter. "Um… sure. Why?"

"Just wondering if you thought the same as I did," said Sirius, grinning forcibly. "I reckon they're good. Wouldn't have stuck with me this far if they weren't, would they?"

James frowned at him. "What do you mean?" Then something clicked in his brain, and a fresh wave of frustration seemed to flow from his head down to his toes. "If this is about you being a Black-"

Sirius went red. "No, of course not-"

"Sirius, how long will it take for you to get it?" said James, gazing right at him. "I don't care if you're a Black - I don't think Remus or Peter cares either… you're decent, all right?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "I'm decent. Now I feel special."

James threw a pillow at him, and it smacked Sirius right in the face, who fell over laughing.

 

 

The weekend seemed to flash by, and James was soon wishing that he had done all his homework on Friday evening with Remus. It wasn't long before he and Sirius were sprawled down on the floor of the Common Room, scribbling randomly about bezoars and asphodel on long pieces of parchment on a cool Sunday evening. Peter, who had managed to finish all of his homework the previous afternoon, was anxiously checking his essay against James and Sirius's. Remus stood over them all, already in his pajamas, helping them when he could.

Nonetheless, James woke up the next morning grumpy and irritated. Sirius, on the other hand, seemed to be more energetic and enthusiastic than ever. Finally, he had seemed to accept the fact that none of his new friends cared the slightest bit about his heritage whatsoever.

"Can't wait for this afternoon." Sirius had said at breakfast as he poured ketchup over his sausages.

Peter frowned at him. "Why?"

"We have Potions with the Slytherins," replied Sirius happily. "Those wazzocks, they'll fail at everything, the stupid -"

"Actually -" Remus murmured, looking paler than usual. "We have Transformation with them in the morning…" He frowned a little, staring vaguely with the ceiling. "At least, I think we do."

It turned out that Remus was right. In fact, they had Transfiguration right after breakfast, and they were very nearly late. Flushed and panting, they seated themselves in tables at the back of the room, heaving their thick leather-bound books onto the desks. James squinted at it; he hadn't really bothered to look in his textbooks yet.

"A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration, by Emeric Switch," he read, opening the book excitedly. "Wow! Look at all this!..." He practically dove into the book. The whole thing seemed very simple to him, a thought and an incantation, and you could change anything into… anything. James flipped through the book hastily, scanning the text, examining the illustrations. One of his favourites depicted a fabulously multi-coloured bird changing into a silver goblet.

Sirius, meanwhile, was tipping his chair back on two legs. "Wonder where the teacher is," he mumbled. "Who's our professor anyways?"

Suddenly, there was a loud noise up near the front of the classroom; someone was clearing their throat. Startled, Sirius almost tumbled out of his chair, while James looked up so fast he cricked his neck. Standing behind the large oaken desk in the front of the room stood the same witch that had placed the Sorting Hat on their heads - McGonagall, James thought. She looked ever the same: rather severe-looking, with a black pointed hat and square spectacles perched on the end of her nose. She stared down at them without the slightest shadow of a smile.

"As you all know, I am Professor McGonagall," she stated obviously. "And I will be your Transfiguration teacher during your time at Hogwarts."

James's hand shot up before he even realized it; McGonagall turned towards him, eyebrows raised. "Yes, Mr. Potter?"

So she had a good memory. "What kind of stuff will we be transfiguring?" he asked eagerly.

"All kinds of 'stuff,' as you put it, Mr. Potter," replied McGonagall. James thought he saw her smirk a little. He watched her flick her wand - instantly, a lot of long, complicated notes appeared on the blackboard in front of the classroom. "Now, if you would… please copy these down…"

To James's extreme disappointment, the class wasn't nearly as fun as he had anticipated. After slowly copying all the notes from the board onto parchment, McGonagall handed them each a match and told them to try to turn it into a needle. James, to his immense surprise, managed to transform his match on the first try. McGonagall actually smiled and held up his needle for everyone to see - he saw the pale, greasy-haired boy he had met on the train scowl at him and wave his wand over his match; it promptly flew six feet into the air and exploded.

 

 

"I think McGonagall's taken a shine to you, James!" chuckled Peter as they left the Transfiguration classroom. Indeed she had seemed to, as she had gone on a ten-minute rant about how particularly talented and lucky James was, how a natural ability to transfigure was very uncommon, and how she looked forward to seeing him more in her class.

"Have you always been able to transfigure things easily, James?" Remus asked, leading the way down the moving staircase.

James frowned. "Well… not always. I turned my mum's wand into a giant slug once - it's not that funny," he added when Sirius sniggered. "I'm pretty sure my wand has something to do with it too… at least, that's what Ollivander said… he said mahogany's real good for Transfiguration…" He glanced down at it as he spoke, clutched tightly in his fist. "Anyways… what do we have next?"

"Potions," said Sirius immediately. "With the Slytherins, we're with them all afternoon."

"Joy," muttered Remus unenthusiastically.

Soon, they arrived at the Potions classroom, which was located in the lowest part of the castle - the dungeons. It was much colder there than the other rooms in Hogwarts, and seemed much more foul. It was dank and dark and multicolored blobs floated in jars on shelves. Thankfully, having had Potions five times the previous week, they were practically used to it. Their professor was already standing there - Horace Slughorn, red-cheeked, big-bellied, and beaming - despite the temperature.

"I can't wait to see this place in winter," murmured Sirius as he set up his cauldron.

"Welcome back!" Slughorn announced, grinning at them. "We'll be continuing to brew the Forgetfulness Potion today - your samples from last week are here on my desk, they'll need to stew for another ten minutes, and they still need sprigs of lavender and some dragon blood… well." His smile widened. "You'll find all the instructions in your books. Let the brewing commence!"

James rolled his eyes. "Who do you reckon will be his favourite today, Sirius?"

Sirius pretended to be concentrating and counted off people on his fingers. "Evans, Maddox… Lancaster," he added, making a face. "They don't really change, do they?"

"No," agreed James, retrieving his sample from Slughorn's desk and dumping it into his cauldron. Furtively, he lit a fire underneath it and glanced anxiously into his cauldron. "Remus?"

"Mmm?" said Remus vaguely, staring down into his Potions book.

"Is it supposed to be red?"

James grinned as Remus whipped around, and enjoyed watching his face turn the same shade of bright scarlet that the potion had turned, although he wished it had been shooting sparks and emitting a high-pitched whistling noise like the potion was.

Slughorn, to James's disappointment, hurried over. "Evanesco!" he yelled, and the potion vanished. "My dear boy, what happened?" Slughorn puffed, straightening his hat on his balding head. "Did you add the Tentacula Leaves? Because you are supposed to wait at least five minutes before-"

"Professor!" someone called from the other end of the classroom. Standing behind a simmering cauldron was the red-haired girl - Evans, James thought - and the bat-like, greasy-haired boy James had seen in Transformation. Snivellus, remembered James, smirking. From the train. "Professor!" Evans called again, waving her hand in the air. "I think we've got it; can you come take a look?"

Slughorn rushed over there so fast he might've be magicked by a Summoning Charm. But as he peered into their cauldron, James saw his face light up with delight. "My, my! This is absolutely perfect - the fumes are strong… I can feel myself forgetting what I had for breakfast this very morning!" He chuckled at his own joke. "Everyone! Come here! Look, Miss Evans and Mr. Snape have done it!"

The effect was almost immediate. In an instant, the whole of the class had gathered around Evans and Snape's cauldron, staring down at the potion. Professor Slughorn was still congratulating them, finally declaring that they had gained a well-earned ten points for both their Houses. James felt something hot like jealousy flare up in the bottom of his stomach. Thankfully, Sirius had stayed by his side. "They shouldn't have gotten points for that," he groaned. "I can't wait to see their smug little faces this next class."

James was a little alarmed. "Why?"

Sirius grinned over at him. "Quidditch."

Promptly, the stinging jealous feeling in his stomach disappeared, and he felt himself grin along with Sirius. He had been playing Quidditch practically all his life, riding a broom was almost second nature to James. Of course, being a first year, he'd been forced to leave his broomstick back in his trunk at home, but James felt like he would give anything to feel that wonderful, thrilling feeling he always got in his chest whenever he rode a broomstick.

He couldn't wait for the next class. Even if it was with the Slytherins.

 

 

James led the way across the still-damp grass, flushed with excitement. Finally, finally, he was going to be able to ride a broom again. He could feel his eye twitching as he was forced to halt when a witch was short white hair and yellow eyes like a hawk.

"Alright!" she barked at them. James could see two rows of brooms laid neatly on the ground behind her; he felt himself grin. Sirius elbowed him hard in the stomach. The witch glanced down at them with her yellow eyes. "I am Madam Hooch - what are you waiting for?" she yelled again, causing the first-years to jump. "Go on, go and stand next to a broom. Hurry up now!"

Quickly, the first-years scurried to find a place next to a broom. James selected the one farthest away from Madam Hooch, a rather sad-looking one with a cracked handle a clumps of twigs missing from the end of it. He stared down at it. "You'd think the school would be able to afford better brooms," he muttered under his breath, turning to look at Sirius. "It doesn't even look like they can get off the ground."

Sirius frowned down at his broom, which looked even more disappointing than James'. "I hope so, or else we'll all look barmy," he muttered.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," Madam Hooch was calling near the front of the line. "And say, 'Up!'"

"UP!" the first-years shouted. To James's delight, his leapt into his hand immediately, as did Sirius's. Peter's, however, didn't move at all, and Remus's wriggled pathetically on the ground. He didn't seem that perturbed; he just smiled rather tiredly.

"I think it knows I'm not that fond of flying," he explained.

Meanwhile, Madam Hooch showed them all how to mount the broom and grip it correctly - James knew he didn't need her help. He wanted to get to the part where they actually flew. He could feel his stomach writhing with excitement as he swung his leg over the side of his broom. Catching Sirius's eye, he grinned.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch sternly. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle!" James gripped the handle of his broom along with the rest of the first years and obeyed; he kicked off the wet grass and made sure to hover a bit longer and a bit higher than everyone else around him. Then they all sank back to the ground - James noticed that the red-haired girl, Evans, was wobbling a bit. He grinned.

"Excellent," barked Madam Hooch. "Now we'll try that again - a bit higher, this time-"

They tried again; James did as he was told. When it was time to descend, however, he rose another three feet in the air and stared down at them all, smirking.

"Alright, Evans?" he yelled down at the girl, who by now had swung off her broomstick and gone to stand by the pasty, greasy-haired boy James recognized once again as "Snivellus" Snape. Both were glaring up at him like he'd just killed their mum's cat.

"Potter!" Madam Hooch yelled at him. She grew smaller and smaller as James rose higher and higher. "Potter, you get down here this instant!"

James shook his head. Far below he saw Sirius, shielding his eyes from the sun and grinning. "See how high you can go!" he shouted.

"Mr. Black-" scolded Madam Hooch.

"James, maybe you should-" began Peter.

"Potter!" cried Evans angrily over all the hubbub. "You get down here right now, you'll get a detention!"

James snorted. "I'm too good for a detention."

"Mr. Potter!" Madam Hooch screeched. "If you don't get down here right now-"

"You'll get in trouble!" Evans yelled. "You'll get Gryffindor in trouble!"

"Bollocks," James said. He urged his broom higher towards the castle roof.

"Potter!" Madam Hooch and Evans screamed at the same time, but they faded in the wind as it rushed past James' ears, he hollered with triumph as he soared towards Ravenclaw Tower - perhaps he could glimpse a couple little Ravenclaws… or, if he was lucky, even Celia St. Claire…

He glanced through the window and he felt his heart soar. There she was, sitting on a pouf in the Ravenclaw Common Room, deeply immersed in her Herbology textbook. Lightly, he tapped on the glass. She looked up, stunned for a few moments, then (his heart jumped again) waved, blushing furiously. Returning her wave, he decided to impress her, doing a loop-de-loop beside the window. He could hear his fellow first-years gasping from the ground below, but he didn't care. He was safe. He'd done stuff like that a million times.

Celia St. Claire was applauding behind the glass. Grinning, he bid her farewell with a jerk of his head and zoomed straight back down towards the ground - he could hear some Gryffindors shrieking - at the very last second, he pulled out of the dive-

Something leapt in front of him, a green and black blur brandishing a wand. "CONFUNDUS!" shouted a voice. Startled, James tried to steer his broom away, but he felt the handle vibrate underneath him - instead of slowing down, it sped up, but it was only inches away from the ground now, and jerking violently, like a bronco trying to buck off his rider.

Thankfully, James kept his head. Forcing his sweaty hands to release the broom handle, he jumped away from it and rolled, coming up on his knees. The broom behind him promptly exploded.

Sirius, who was standing nearby, helped James to his feet. "That was wicked, mate!"

James grinned.

Madam Hooch, meanwhile, was all in a dither. "Now, really!" she yelled. The effect of her voice sent all the first-years stumbling backwards. "The Confundus Charm was unnecessary! A detention, perhaps, might do the trick!" She stared at the first-years with her hawk-like eyes. "Come now! Which one of you did it?"

No one stirred.

"Bet one Sickle it's Snivellus," James muttered.

"I'm betting Evans - you're on," murmured Sirius, smirking.

Sighing, Madam Hooch whipped out her wand. "I guess there's only one way to solve this - Prior Incantato!" She yelled, waving her wand over the crowd of frightened first-years. Gasping and shrieking, they tried to evade the spell, but it appeared to do nothing; that is, until the wand of an unsuspecting Slytherin was yanked out of his pocket and zoomed into Madam Hooch's hand.

"Aha!" she shouted. "Mr. Snape, is it?"

Snape nodded, apparently emotionless.

"Well, this will be your first detention at Hogwarts won't it?" Snape nodded sullenly. James stifled a laugh - Madam Hooch's head snapped around to look at him. "The same goes for you, Mr. Potter!" Then she cast her eyes over the rest of her class, who looked nervous and surprisingly shrunken. "Well, what are you all looking at?" Madam Hooch barked. "Class dismissed!"

The first-years anxiously gathered up their things and made their way back up to the castle. Remus and Peter fell in pace with James and Sirius at the back of the group.

"I can't believe you've gone and landed yourself in detention," Peter groaned.

"Just like Lily said you would," Remus said, shaking his head.

James elbowed him in the ribs. "Already on a first name basis, eh? You in love, Remus?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "I am not. You're telling me you're not upset you got a detention?"

James grinned. "Don't try to change the subject. Nah, I don't mind. But Sirius owes me a Sickle now, don't you, mate?"

"Can't believe it," Sirius said, pretending to look solemn.

Out of the corner of his eye, James saw Snape enter the castle, walking in a way that reminded James of a spider. Peter followed his gaze.

"Who do you reckon he is, then?" he asked, looking after Snape.

Sirius laughed humorlessly. "That's Snivellus. Snivellus Snape."

"He's odd," Remus muttered, frowning. "I reckon he's lonely. Doesn't have many friends, does he?"

"He hangs out with Evans," Peter pointed out.

"Lads, he nearly killed James," Sirius said loudly.

"He couldn't kill me if he tried," James said scornfully. And without another word, he rushed ahead of them and back into the castle.


	7. The Howler

Why had James been so angry? Sirius found himself wondering this hours after Quidditch training and long into the night. Perhaps he hadn't been angry, but merely irritated that he had gotten a detention. Or maybe James was frustrated that Snape had succeeded in Confunding his broomstick. That surely was it. James had been complaining for what seemed like hours about how Snape was an idiotic, attention-seeking moron who was out to get James.

"I mean, why else would he do it?" James had muttered, shoving his foot into his pant leg so hard it ripped. "Why else would he - damn-"

"Reparo," Remus had yawned, pointing his wand at James's pajamas and not taking his eyes off his book.

" - Thanks, mate. Why else would he confund my broom? Confund it, eh? Eh? He can't be out to get me! Can he?" He had stared at the three other boys in the dormitory. Sirius had remembered them all avoiding his gaze.

There was silence. Then -

"You're welcome," Remus had said, grabbing his pajamas and heading towards the bathroom. "I'll change in here, shall I?"

The conversation had ended there. But Sirius still didn't understand. At that time, James had seemed more confused than angry. But when they were leaving the Quidditch pitch, James had definitely been angry. Furious, even. Did he have a history with Snivellus? Did James know him somehow?

It's not your business, Sirius reminded himself. It was still dark out. Three, maybe four o'clock in the morning. He slammed a pillow in his own face. Now go to sleep.

But it bothered him. James was keeping secrets from him.

But Sirius kept secrets from James. And if that bothered James, Sirius supposed they were even.

 

 

Sirius woke up the same way he'd been waking up for the past week.

"SIRIUS BLACK!"

It was as if someone had shoved an alarm clock in his ear. He screamed and tumbled off his four-poster, landing on the floor still curled up in his sheets like a cocoon. Remus and Peter, meanwhile, were chuckling as they watched Sirius thrash around, trying to emerge from the blankets.

"Need help, Sirius?" Peter managed to say between fits of laughter.

"No!" Sirius struggled for a few more moments. "Yes."

Remus bent over and helped Sirius up. With a start, Sirius realized that Remus was noticeably paler than usual. Sirius squinted at him. "You alright, mate?"

It seemed to take a few seconds for the words to sink in. Remus blinked a few times. "Oh. Er. Yes, I'm fine. A bit tired."

Sirius frowned. "You sure? You seem a bit buggered."

"Oh? Well. Um - No. I'm fine."

Sirius watched Remus shoulder his bag and make his way down towards the Common Room. Then, arching an eyebrow, he turned towards Peter. "Is he always like that in the morning?"

Peter scratched his head. "Just about."

Sirius shrugged. Remus would be fine after a cup of tea. Or perhaps coffee. Sirius never fancied it, but Remus might. He noted this as a possible Christmas gift.

"I'm peckish," he announced, suddenly realizing how hungry he was. Quickly, he lobbed a pillow at James, who was still passed out in bed. "Oy, James! Breakfast!"

It smacked James right in the face. "Ow! Bloody hell!" He rolled off the mattress and onto the floor, his hair managing to stick up in every direction. "What day is it?"

"Tuesday," Peter replied. "Double Defense in the morning, then Herbology."

"Mmm," Sirius muttered unenthusiastically, pulling on his socks.

James stared at him. "Aren't you a giddy kipper. What's eating you?"

"What do you think?"

James just grinned at him. "Yeah, I know. Don't worry about it - Lancaster will be gone by the beginning of next term."

"But Martin won't," Peter muttered darkly.

On that happy note, they trooped down to breakfast only to find the House tables already filled with students. They pushed themselves through a crowd of babbling Ravenclaws, finally managing to seat themselves opposite of Remus, who had busied himself by opening that morning's newspaper and eating marmalade out of the jar.

James grinned at the spread laid out on the table. "Excellent, I could murder some pancakes right about now."

"Only waffles, I'm afraid," Remus murmured tiredly, turning a page of his newspaper. "And toast and eggs, if you want it."

"Cheers," said Peter, seizing a plate of eggs. He nodded at the paper Remus was getting. "Where'd you get that? Is that last week's paper?"

Remus shook his head. "It arrived today by owl post."

"I wish I had an owl," James moaned, crunching on some toast.

"Some things came for you three too…" Remus reached underneath the table and pulled out a handful of mail. In turn, he handed a wrinkled letter to Peter, several wrapped brown packages to James, and a mysterious red envelope to Sirius.

Peter hastily turned his letter over. "Mum's alright!" he exclaimed happily. "Money could be better - but Dad's dropped by recently and given her a few Galleons-"

Beside him, James was ripping open one of his packages. "Sugar Quills, yes!" he hollered. "There're my favourite - you can bring them into class and the teacher'll never be the wiser -"

But Sirius wasn't paying any attention to what James or Peter was saying. He was staring at the scarlet envelope clutched in his hand, smoking at the edges and shaking slightly. He had expected it to come eventually, but now that it was in front of him… he wanted to run away as fast as he could.

Remus froze when he saw the letter, his spoon halfway up to his mouth. "Is that what I think it is?"

Peter's eyes got as big as dinner plates. "Bloody hell."

James dropped his packages; they all landed with a simultaneous thump! on the floor of the Great Hall. "That's a Howler!" gasped James in a hushed voice. "Sirius, is that from-"

Sirius suddenly felt his eyes getting wet. He hated himself for it. "My mum." His voice cracked when he said it. There was also a sort of sinking feeling in his stomach, like an awful sense of foreboding that could mean nothing good. "Or my dad…"

By that time, the amount of smoke issuing from the envelope was so thick Sirius couldn't see anything anymore. For a moment, it almost looked like it was on fire, until Peter seemingly had had enough and emptied a whole pitcher of water over it. Sirius felt rather foolish holding a soaking parchment envelope with ink bleeding all over his hands; that is, until James shouted, "You prat, now it's going to-"

"SIRIUS BLACK!"

It was as if he was being woken up all over again, only this time it was a thousand times louder, and in a voice he hoped he would never hear again. Mother. He felt his face redden as all eyes in the Great Hall turned to look at him, and felt his hands grow hot. He refused to look up at James, who was staring wide-eyed at him.

"HOW DARE YOU DISGRACE THIS FAMILY IN THAT HORRIBLE, DISGUSTING WAY! BEING SORTED INTO GRYFFINDOR - YOUR FATHER AND I COULD HARDLY BELIEVE IT, WE HAD THOUGHT FOR CERTAIN YOU HAD FINALLY DONE SOMETHING RIGHT IN YOUR MISERABLE, NO-GOOD LIFE! I SUPPOSE YOU'VE BEFRIENDED SOME AWFUL MUDBLOODS, HAVEN'T YOU? OF COURSE YOU HAVE, YOU'VE NEVER BEEN DECENT, YOU REVOLTING INGRATE!"

She ranted on. She'd always been honest, she'd never held anything back. Sirius didn't know why it affected him so, it wasn't like he hadn't heard all these things before. But something was wrenching in the pit of his stomach, something hot and twisted. His hands shook in his lap as James continued to gaze at him.

"SOMETIMES I WISH YOU'D NEVER BEEN BORN INTO THE FAMILY! THINK OF ALL THE EMBARRASSMENT WE WOULD'VE BEEN SPARED FROM! KREACHER HAS MORE RESPECT FOR THIS FAMILY THAN YOU DO, YOU INSOLENT LITTLE BRAT! AND DON'T BOTHER TO COME HOME FOR CHRISTMAS BECAUSE YOU WON'T BE WELCOME!" And with that, the envelope exploded into a hundred tiny pieces, falling like red snow down on Sirius's plate. He stared at them for a few seconds, then glanced back up at his friends. They were all gaping at him openmouthed, their faces being a mixture of pity and fright. None of them spoke.

Finally, Remus said, "Who's Kreacher?"

"Our house-elf," Sirius heard himself reply. The twisted thorny thing in his stomach refused to dissipate. He hated himself for it.

Thankfully, by that time, mostly everyone had stopped staring at Sirius and the Howler and had gone back to breakfast, with the exception of a couple nasty Slytherins jeering and pointing. Also, Lancaster and a crowd of his cronies sat near the end of the Gryffindor table, laughing as loud as they could and making faces in Sirius's direction. Sirius swallowed a red-hot lump of anger in his throat. He was used to the taunting - in fact, it was worse at home… it was the way James and the others were looking at him -

Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder. For a wild second, he hoped it might be Andromeda, but his hopes vanished when he heard a frigid voice near his ear.

"Enjoying their company? Mudbloods? Blood-traitors? I daresay you'll become one soon enough."

"SHUT UP!" Sirius whipped around, flinging the hand from his shoulder as he went. It was Lucius Malfoy, the Slytherin prefect. He wasn't a Black, but he was almost as bad. The Malfoys had the same stubborn reputation, and what was worse, Sirius had heard a rumor that Lucius was fond of his sister, Narcissa. If the two of them got married, their family would be pure evil. He was sure of it. The whole thought of it all made him sick.

There was no holding back the anger now, he could feel it, blazing like fire in his chest. He raised himself up to his full height, which wasn't much, but he met Lucius's piercing gaze. Usually looking straight at Lucius Malfoy made him shiver inside, but Sirius couldn't feel anything. Sirius blinked. Lucius stared down at him.

"Excuse me, Black?"

Sirius took a deep breath. "I said SHUT UP!" The hall grew quiet again. Sirius felt his ears burn.

Lucius glanced around the room dismissively and examined his cuticles. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that. Nice to hear from your mother, I presume? I suppose she's proud of you, getting Sorted so… er… successfully." He couldn't contain a snort of laughter. With a start, Sirius realized that he was surrounded by his usual gang, which, Sirius was surprised to see, Snivellus Snape had appeared to join. He certainly looked like he was enjoying himself.

Sirius swallowed. "How's your mum doing, Malfoy?" he said, recalling his usual snarkiness. "Is she killing herself before or after you come home for Christmas? 'Cause I'd do it before. Wouldn't have to see your ugly face then, am I right?"

Malfoy's laughing ceased in two seconds flat. "You leave her out of this, Black. You don't even-"

But Sirius wasn't even fazed. "Do your parents even realise they're living proof that two wrongs don't make a right?"

Sirius saw Malfoy's eye twitch. He'd struck a nerve. Malfoy was going to hit him. At least, that's what his mother usually did. It wasn't uncommon. He braced himself. Malfoy lashed out -

Slap.

James's hand flashed out from nowhere and smacked Malfoy around the face, sending him staggering backwards into his cronies. James, eyes glinting with fury, stepped forward to stand beside Sirius. Sirius found himself somewhere in a state between glee and extreme fear. What was James going to do?

Malfoy strode forwards, a vein visibly popping in his forehead. "Why, you little-"

"Really?" came a voice from behind Sirius and James. "Now?"

They turned to see Remus standing there, his bag over his shoulder, his newspaper under his arm, and a jar of marmalade still clutched in his right hand. He was definitely paler than usual: his eyes were tinged with red and his whole body seemed to be drooping from exhaustion. Even his voice sounded weary.

"Can we… do this later? We're going to be late."

Malfoy stared at Remus in either bewilderment or disgust, Sirius couldn't tell. "You stay out of this, you little runt! This doesn't involve you-"

To Sirius's surprise, Remus didn't back down. He just waved his hand vaguely at Malfoy while glancing down into his bag. "Yes, yes… I'd give you a nasty look, but, to be frank, you've already got one… ah. Here, hold this." He eased the marmalade jar into Sirius's hand as he reached into his bag and pulled out his schedule. "We have Defence with Lancaster, we don't want to be late… come on, Peter…"

Peter followed Remus fleetingly, shooting James and Sirius a covert look over his shoulder as they departed from the Great Hall. James, however, remained by Sirius's side. But this made no impression on Malfoy though. He just leaned in next to Sirius's ear and hissed, "Do you think I'm taking you seriously? You're first years. You can't do anything. But you better watch your back. Because if you pull any more-"

James chose that moment to interrupt in a casual sort of voice. "You're not taking him seriously? That's a relief. But it doesn't go both ways, you see, does it, mate?" He turned towards Sirius, raising his eyebrows and nodding.

Sirius just decided to go with it. "Nope. No, it doesn't." Sirius had no idea where James was going with this.

James smirked. "You see… Sirius… is not taking you seriously, are you, Sirius? Sirius is not… taking this seriously…" He abruptly snorted with laughter, repeating rapidly under his breath, "Seriously, Sirius is not taking this seriously… taking this situation seriously…"

Malfoy shoved James backwards, pushing him hard against the Gryffindor House table. "You think this is all a joke?"

Something sparked in Sirius's brain. He didn't know what came over him, but he felt his hands clench at his sides. When he was within range, he tightened his fists and slammed one right in Malfoy's ugly face.

There wasn't much effect. Sirius, being a first-year and much smaller than Malfoy only caused Malfoy to shout in surprise and pain. But James hollered with triumph, and the startled screams of everyone around him made Sirius happy enough. He turned towards Malfoy, a Slytherin but also a prefect towering above him. Sirius frowned. "The joke's on you," he said simply. "Leave me be." Then, to sudden and awed silence, he and James collected their books and things from their House table. No one said anything.

At that moment, Snape started forward and opened his mouth furiously, but James just said, "Have some marmalade, Snivelly!" and dumped the remaining contents of the marmalade jar over Snape's head. He promptly left the hall, while Sirius scooped up the ashen remnants of the Howler and scattered them neatly over Snape's greasy black hair like confetti.

 

 

James and Sirius were quiet all the way to the Defence against the Dark Arts classroom. Sirius surprised himself by realizing that he was happy that James wasn't saying anything. He needed some time to think.

In no time, they reached the classroom, but they both knew well that they were very late. Sirius didn't look at James, but out of the corner of his eye, Sirius saw James glance over at him before pushing the door open and leading the way inside.

"Potter, Black! Five points from both of you for tardiness! And also…" Professor Lancaster turned towards them with a nasty sneer on his face. "Martin reported that he saw you two… fighting, with Slytherins in the Great Hall? Muggle dueling… distasteful. That's ten more points from Gryffindor."

Martin chose that moment to raise his hand and wave it around in the air. Smirking, Lancaster said, "Yes, Martin?"

"In case I didn't tell you before, Professor (Martin was sure to put emphasis on the word), I saw Sirius punch a prefect as well!"

"Shut up, Lancaster!" snapped James loudly. Martin laughed, not bothering to hide it.

Ignoring them, Professor Lancaster turned back towards Sirius and James, glowering now with obvious triumph. "A prefect, eh? That's ten more points from Gryffindor, Black." He swept back towards the front of the classroom, his long black robes trailing behind him. "I find it a shame that you're not like your family, you know. Your bloodline, your relatives, your family tree. They're all so… so honorable, so respectful of their heritage. But you just had to go and…" He glared down at Sirius, and his eyes seemed to glow with hatred. "Stain it."

By this point, Sirius couldn't even hear Lancaster anymore. Sparks like miniature fireworks were erupting in his brain, the dull throb that was ringing in his ears had grown to a roar, and he felt something like anger pulse behind his eyes. He didn't care. He just didn't care anymore.

Lancaster was still talking. "Do you hear me, Black? Black!"

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Are you waiting for something?"

He felt himself relish the silence that followed. Lancaster stared at him while the rest of the class gazed on in wonder, but they didn't say anything.

Sirius frowned. "Were you-?" He looked around at the class again. "Ah. I see. Well-" He drew up a chair from the nearest table and sat in it, taking time to make himself comfortable. "If you're waiting for me to care, I hope you brought something to eat, 'cause it's gonna be a really long time."

At that moment, Lancaster seemed to come back to his senses. "Ten more points from Gryffindor, Black!" he said a bit louder. "Now kindly-"

"Kindly?" Sirius yelled, making a few of the students jump. "Kindly? Since when have you been kind?"

Lancaster sputtered for a moment; Sirius snapped his fingers.

"Oh, hold on, wait… there was that one time..." He pretended to think hard for a moment. "Nevermind. I confused you with Salazar Slytherin."

Several members of the class laughed at this, one of them being Peter. Remus, it appeared, looked rather nervous, and James still seemed oddly blank. Sirius wondered why.

"Now look here!" Lancaster shouted, striding forward a few paces. "I don't see why I should be taunted by an ingrateful, two-faced-"

"Two-faced?" gasped James suddenly, lurching backwards. Sirius grinned. James then put a hand on Sirius's shoulder and stared him down, as if James were examining him before performing plastic surgery. "I don't think two faces is the trick, darling," he called back to Lancaster, who turned red with anger. James gazed at Sirius and nodded convincingly. "If you want that though, it's perfectly alright." He glanced back over his shoulder at Professor Lancaster and whispered loudly, "But if you're going to be two-faced, at least make one of them pretty. You don't want to end up looking like that."

"That's ENOUGH!" Lancaster yelled, positively spitting with rage. "Detention for both of you, and ten more points from Gryffindor! Get to your seats NOW!"

Sirius didn't know what he liked more: James grinning at him as they scrambled towards their desks, the scarlet color Lancaster's face had turned while they had been taunting him, or the fact that they were able to pelt Martin with spitballs without getting caught even once.

 

 

"Fantastic!" was the first word that left Peter's mouth as they left Defence Against the Dark Arts. Sirius grinned over at him. He was feeling happier than ever - the hot furious feeling in his chest had melted completely, replaced with a fresh new wave of appreciation for his friends. Especially James. He never would've expected James to be that willing to tease and taunt a teacher at a moment's notice. Well… maybe he had, but not to that extent.

James, meanwhile, was laughing so hard he was practically crying. "Th- that was brilliant!" he snorted, trying to muffle his laughter as Professor Lancaster swept by, looking livid. Sirius knew that Lancaster would probably never forget that day, and would spend his remaining time at Hogwarts trying to make Sirius and James's lives as miserable as possible.

Keeping this well in mind, Sirius said eagerly, "What should we do next?"

"Nothing else, I hope," said a very tired sort of voice. Remus was standing on the other side of Sirius, biting his lip and looking very worried.

"Oh, come on, Remus!" said Jame loudly, elbowing his friend in the ribs. "It was just a bit of fun. Nothing more."

"But what should we do next?" Sirius pestered.

"You two are insane," Remus muttered, shaking his head.

"Insane, are we?" James shouted at the top of his lungs.

Sirius grinned. "Yep. Mad as a bag of ferrets."

Remus sighed. "I give up."

Peter, on the other hand, was laughing almost as hard as James was. "Did you see Martin's face?" he chortled. "He looked about ready to explode!"

"What did you two do that for?" yelled someone behind them. Lily Evans was right behind them, having to jog to keep up with their strides. "Lancaster just docked Gryffindor 'bout fifty points!"

James frowned. "Can't have. We didn't lose fifty."

Sirius did his best to sound concerned. "You're right - that's bang out of order. We only lost forty, right mate?"

"Mmm… forty-five, I'd have to say."

Evans was fuming. "You can't just go around doing whatever you like!" she shouted. "There are rules, you know!"

"We know!" Sirius and James said together, turning away from her and skipping away. Peter raced after them with excitement, while Remus smirked at them all, following at a slow plod. In other words, it took them quite a while to reach the Herbology greenhouses, but just managed to avoid being late.

"And thank goodness for that!" huffed James, plopping his bag down on the floor. "Evans would blow a gasket if we were late."

Adjusting her hat atop her flyaway hair, Professor Sprout announced that they would continue potting Bouncing Bulbs. Lancaster, who was nearby, scowled in Sirius's direction and moved to the opposite side of the room. James grinned and waved gaily at him.

They retrieved their supplies from the back of the greenhouse - Sirius was gagging again at the sight of wriggling orange tubers.

"Come on, they're not that bad," said Peter convincingly, grabbing a handful and stuffing them into a pot.

Sirius just retched in response and refused to look at them. Remus frowned at him. "Lily's right, you know."

James whipped around, his eyes wide. "What?"

Remus's frown deepened. "She's right. There are rules. You can't just run around, doing whatever you want and completely ignore them."

James sighed hugely. "Ah, well. What can I do? It's in my nature!"

"Sod it," Sirius heard Remus groan. But out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Remus grin.

Bang!

The sudden noise caused almost everyone to leap off their seats. A bushy-haired, green-eyed Hufflepuff prefect stood there, looking quite anxious. He was clutching the arm of a younger Hufflepuff, a second or third year girl, who was struggling violently against her captor. Her eyes were glazed over and white and her expression was quite vacant.

"Professor Sprout!" the prefect shouted desperately over all the kerfuffle. "Professor Sprout, I need your help, please!"

The girl struggled even more violently; Professor Sprout hurried over. "Holland! Merlin's beard, whatever's the matter?"

"It's Paige, Professor!" Holland muttered with difficulty. "There's something wrong with her… she's eccentric!"

As if on cue, Paige began screaming and kicking. Still, her expression was blank. Holland strained to keep her at bay, but her kicking legs knocked over a clay pot full of dragon dung and narrowly missed Lancaster's face. But Sirius was too confused to even laugh at him. What was going on?

Sprout ducked Paige's flailing legs. "Yes, yes, I can see that!" she cried anxiously. "What's happened?"

"I don't-" It was obvious Holland was about to say, "I don't know," but he never got a chance to finish his sentence. Little Paige managed to slip free from his grasp. Hurrying forwards she seized a newly potted Bouncing Bulb and threw it at Holland. He ducked just in time; it shattered behind him on the greenhouse wall.

"Now Miss Vaughan-!" Sprout began to say, but Paige was too quick for her. She pelted them all with bits of glass and pottery; the class shrieked and rushed for cover underneath their tables.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Sirius heard Peter scream right next to his ear.

But Paige wasn't done yet. From her mouth issued an unearthly shriek as she sprinted away from them. She picked up a table from near the front of the greenhouse, raised it above her head, and threw it at Holland and Professor Sprout.

Sprout was ready. "Immobulus!" she shouted. The table froze in midair. "Be ready, Holland!" she yelled over her shoulder. Looking determined, Holland took out his wand.

From underneath the table, Sirius's eyes were fixed on Paige. What was wrong with her? White eyes… immense strength… was it the effect of some horrid potion, perhaps? Or had she been hexed with some kind of unthinkable spell?

With an animal-like snarl, Paige launched herself at Holland.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Professor Sprout and Holland shouted together. Their spells hit Paige right in the stomach and she froze, almost like she had turned to ice, and collapsed onto the floor. The table she had thrown still hovered stubbornly in the air.

Professor Sprout was out of breath. "Holland, take her to the hospital wing!" she demanded. "NOW!" Holland quickly did as he was told. James and Sirius exchanged glances. They had never seen Professor Sprout act like this.

"Children," Professor Sprout said. "Children, get up. Class is dismissed. Return to your dormitories and stay there until you are told otherwise."

Shakily, they all got to their feet and gathered up their things.

"What was that?" Sirius whispered as he made his way through the door. He glanced at the others, but their faces were as blank as his.


	8. Moons and Mudbloods

"What do you think happened in there?" Remus asked, seemingly to himself as he walked down an empty corridor. Noticeably slower than normal. He was feeling tired and worn down, and his head ached with every step he took.

"I'm not sure," said a translucent figure floating a couple inches to Remus's right - Nearly Headless Nick, the ghost of Gryffindor Tower. The first-year Gryffindors had seen and conversed with him many times throughout the year, though Sirius had confessed that he found Nick rather annoying. Remus quite liked Nick. He was a decent fellow and always seemed to know what was going on both inside and outside the castle. Remus never was one for gossip, but Nick always seemed to make things like that interesting. Perhaps it was the way he said it.

"Poor Paige," Remus muttered as they set off down some stairs towards the main courtyard. "And to think that Nicholls was going to ask her out next Thursday."

Nick nodded, his head bobbing ominously as he did so. "The Fat Friar told me that Paige is resting comfortably in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries-"

"Is she?" asked Remus as they turned a corner. "Good. Have they figured out what made her act like… that?"

"They're clueless, although Madam Pomfrey thought she'd taken some kind of potion."

"That's impossible, there's no potion that does that… at least, none that I've ever heard of…" They reached a door; Nearly Headless Nick simply passed through it while Remus struggled with the handle for a few moments before giving up. He was so weak he couldn't even open a door, he really should take the medicine Madam Pomfrey had prescribed him, but he didn't even know what it did-!

Nick poked his nearly-decapitated head through the door again and stared at him. "Remus! Are you quite alright?"

"What? Oh, yes. I'm… I'm fine..." Remus was having trouble concentrating, and was sweating profusely. He wiped his hands on his trousers. Out of the corner of his eye, Remus saw Nick glancing at his hands. He wished he had worn his robes - they would've covered up his hands - but it was the weekend, and it was too hot to go wandering about in black robes. Instead Remus had put on an old T-shirt and trousers, but even now it was too hot.

Nick raised a translucent eyebrow. "Do you want me to go for Madam Pomfrey?"

"No!" Remus answered so fast he was sure Nick would suspect something. "I… er - I forgot something - back upstairs… very important, don't wait up…" And he ran back from where they had come. He would've been fast on a normal day, but with the full moon being only a night away, Remus slowed to an exhausted walk almost immediately. Running was one of the few things he prided himself on. He'd always been good at running. He'd had to run away from almost everything…

Remus reached the stairs that lead up to the second floor, and listened. He heard nothing. He supposed most of the school was away, seeing as it was the weekend and years three and up were allowed to visit the village…

The stairs. Why did they seem so endless?

Remus sighed and began to climb. It seemed like every little step required every muscle in every part of his body. He wasn't even halfway up the first staircase when his knees gave out from underneath him.

Oh God… He stumbled for a moment, leaning on the rail for support-

"Remus?" It was Peter, descending the staircase above Remus. "Remus, is that you?"

Remus didn't have the strength to answer. So he just let Peter come to him while he sat down on one of the steps, leaning his forehead up against the cool wall. It was so cold. It felt good.

"Remus, you alright mate?" Peter asked, coming to stand beside him. Remus turned to look at him; Peter looked exceptionally concerned. "You don't look too good."

Remus turned to put his forehead against the wall again. "Nothing, I'm fine," he said to the wall. "Just tired… a bit warm, innit?"

"Remus, it's October. And to be honest, it's bloody freezing in here. Are you sure you feel alright?"

Confused, Remus looked up at Peter again. How was he surviving in this heat? He was wearing a thick sweater and jeans, and surveying Remus with what he feared was a professional interest. "Do you have a fever?"

"I do not!" Remus huffed. To hs displeasure, Peter reached over and felt his forehead.

"That is definitely a fever - c'mon, I'll take you to the hospital wing."

"I don't need the hospital wing!" snapped Remus.

Peter stared at him. "Aren't you argy-bargy. What was in your tea this morning?"

"Milk… and sugar."

"You sure James didn't slip anything in it? Pink and squishy and looked like a little rabbit?"

"What?"

"Nevermind - c'mon, get up. You're coming to the hospital wing with me." Roughly, Peter grabbed Remus from under the arms and yanked him upright. Remus could barely contain a moan of pain.

"Just - just let me be, alright?" Remus said, trying to shove Peter away.

"Nothing doing. My dad was a Healer for St. Mungo's," Peter explained, slowly leading Remus up the staircase. "I know a fever when I see one."

Remus didn't know whether to be worried or relieved.

They began the long ascent. It took them a long while to reach the hospital wing. By that time, they had ascended at least thirteen staircases and Peter was practically dragging Remus up the last one.

"Madam… Pomfrey!" panted Peter, struggling to keep Remus upright. "There's something wrong with him… really wrong… he's got a fever…"

Madam Pomfrey, bless her, hurried over at once and relieved Peter, leading Remus over to a cot. "You… Pettigrew," she began. "What day is it?"

"Sunday - the third."

"Good heavens, I almost forgot! Here, boy, lie down, lie down…" She gently forced Remus to lie back on some pillows.

"Why is the hospital so high up?" mumbled Remus in a daze. "It's extremely inconvenient."

"What's wrong with him?" Peter asked desperately.

"We'll soon find out, won't we?" Madam Pomfrey said firmly, ending the conversation there. "Now shoo."

Peter obeyed, rather reluctantly, as far as Remus could tell. His vision had gone all fuzzy. He saw a red and white blob bend over him - Madam Pomfrey, he guessed. "How do you feel, dear?" she asked, a tinge of something like worry in her voice.

"Smashing." His voice sounded odd. Much higher than normal.

"Just what I wanted to hear," Madam Pomfrey murmured, bringing something up to his lips. "Drink this…"

Remus did. He didn't remember much afterward, because everything went black.

 

 

It was the sun that woke him - daylight streaming through the window, so bright it almost blinded him. He squinted, trying to sit up a bit, but his shoulder immediately screamed with agony and he collapsed into some pillows again. His senses were overwhelmed as unfamiliar scents and sounds filled his nose and ears, and he felt a sudden jolt of panic. He didn't know why. His senses were always heightened before the full moon, this wasn't anything out of the ordinary.

Promptly, Madam Pomfrey bent over him. "There, there dear, it'll be alright… here, take these…" She handed him a few small pills. He took them without complaint, managing to restrain gagging at their horrid taste.

"How long have I been here? What's going on, what time is it?" he asked all in one breath.

"It's 1 o'clock in the afternoon, dear. October the fourth."

"The fourth!" yelled Remus, sitting bolt upright. It couldn't be the fourth already, he had been sleeping for only a few minutes! Had he been sleeping that entire time? What did they have right now? Charms? How much of it had he missed?

"Calm down, dear - lie back down -"

She pushed him gently back into bed; the pain in his shoulder blinded him. For a moment, he just stuttered wordlessly, then finally managed to find his voice again.

"I… I have things to do! I have class, I-"

"You can't do anything, not with the state you're in," Madam Pomfrey said, gazing down at him sternly. "Screaming and moaning all night, you'd think you'd-"

"Hang on." Remus frowned. "I was screaming?"

"Yes, screaming," Madam Pomfrey said, frowning right back at him. "Like a banshee. Professor McGonagall herself came in to try and calm you down."

Remus felt himself flush. He already felt like Dumbledore was doing more than enough, letting Remus be accepted into Hogwarts and all, but Professor McGonagall…. He liked her well enough, but he didn't want her to feel like it was her personal duty to mollycoddle him day and night.

"Don't worry," Madam Pomfrey said suddenly, as if she could see into his thoughts. "It'll be alright."

Remus knew perfectly well that it was not going to be alright, but he said nothing. He just smiled up at her, and tried to ignore the burning pain slowly numbing his shoulder.

 

 

"Wake up, dear," Madam Pomfrey whispered in his ear, shaking his shoulder. "It's time."

At her touch, his shoulder screamed; flares of pain seemed to shoot out across his entire body. He felt himself tremble. He was getting weaker.

No, the wolf growled somewhere deep inside him. Stronger.

Get up, Remus told himself. Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself up on his elbows. It seemed to take much more effort and strength than usual. His vision was swimming - in fact, he could barely make Madam Pomfrey. Nonetheless, Remus found himself searching for a window… there. Madam Pomfrey had made sure to seal the window tightly, bolted and latched, and covered the glass with a curtain, but he could still make out its outline. It was as plain as day.

The moon. Bright yellow against the black satin sky.

It seemed to be laughing at him.

The wolf inside Remus laughed with it.

Remus's arms shook. The strain was too much. He fell back onto his pillows, his hands now convulsing visibly. Only two hours left now. He could tell.

He gazed up at the red and white blotch that was Madam Pomfrey hovering above him. "Can… you -?"

She didn't even need him to finish his sentence. Nodding, she wiped the sweat off his face and slowly helped him sit up. Remus winced. He felt like moaning; his bones suddenly felt ancient, they ached and seemed to creak with every move he made.

Pain suddenly flared in his side, and he gasped. Madam Pomfrey stopped.

"What is it?"

The agony grew, slowly and steadily, but he just swallowed, gulping down a second gasp, and shook his head, saying nothing. Eyeing him uncertainly, Madam Pomfrey helped him stand - something like hot metal wires seemed to shoot up his legs. Remus bit the inside of his mouth to stop himself from screaming. He tasted blood.

The wolf relished it.

Slowly but steadily, Remus made his way across the hospital wing and into a closed ward where he could change. His robes were already there, neatly folded but severely dilapidated, having been worn for seven years by his father. Nevertheless, they seemed to tug Remus back to reality, and he felt himself slightly smile as he pulled them on.

The closed ward was quite bare - just a bunk, a small table beside it, and a mirror that was barely a foot across hung almost limply in a corner. Remus stared at it. Chalk-white face… his scars were even more visible, jagged waxen lines crossing his cheeks and chin. He found himself tracing one self-consciously… that night, the wolf had be particularly vicious… he had almost gotten through the basement door…

"Are you ready?" came Madam Pomfrey's anxious voice from behind the door.

Remus jumped. "Yes." He turned the mirror over and went out to meet her - he noticed that now she had her wand in hand.

She didn't elaborate. "Come now." Remus followed her out the door; he saw that her face was set. She hadn't told him why she had her wand out, but he had guessed why almost immediately… it was in case anything went wrong…

Madam Pomfrey wasted no time. She rushed hastily towards the main courtyard, Remus stayed on her heels. They're footsteps echoed ominously as they passed through the halls - he realized with a start that it must be hours past curfew, all the students were in their dormitories. Even the ghosts were absent. Without all the bustle, the huge corridors seemed eerie.

Professor Sprout met them at the main doors. She too had her wand out and was looking anxious. "Mr. Lupin, Poppy - are you ready?"

Beside him, Madam Pomfrey nodded. Remus looked up at the great wide wooden doors and felt a familiar stiff sort of foreboding. He too nodded.

"Right." Professor Sprout's eyes lingered on Remus for a moment. Then without another word, she pushed open one of the large oaken doors and led the way outside. Madam Pomfrey went next, glancing worriedly over her shoulder. Then came Remus, whose shoulder was aching worse than ever.

He stepped outside. A soft breeze swept past, ruffling the reeds and the long grasses that surrounded the lake edge, cooling Remus's warm face and neck. Relief and pleasure, for one split-second-

There it was again. The moon. Bright, fat and golden like a giant eye staring down at him. His shoulder twinged again, but this time, the pain didn't fade. Instead it remained - he felt teeth biting down deep into his shoulder, claws raking his chest, skin ripping apart and blood spilling over water-

The moon.

The wolf laughed.

"NO!"

The wolf leapt forward; Remus, in turn, threw himself backwards - his knees buckled again and he fell forward onto the grass - he was changing, he could feel it… he was writhing, convulsing there on the ground… the moon watched him in the sky, as if waiting… waiting for the wolf to emerge…

In a flash, Madam Pomfrey was by his side. She yelled for Professor Sprout, but her voice sounded tinny and far away… she tugged on his arm, he was aware of the bones there were cracking audibly - he saw her face pale. "Hurry!" she shouted, all gentleness forgotten. Roughly, Madam Pomfrey hefted him to his feet and practically dragged him along. He managed to fall in step with her once more, but painfully - he felt something tug in his stomach - he swallowed vomit that again and again threatened to make an appearance.

"Pomona, hurry!" Madam Pomfrey yelled again. Remus was shaking so violently he could barely move - in the hazy distance he saw Professor Sprout doing battle with what looked like a giant leafy octopus. She ran left and right, dodging its thick arms that almost looked like clenched fists… The Whomping Willow. Brutally, it slammed one of its twisted branches down inches away from Professor Sprout - the ground shook -

The tree raised another one of its arm-like branches for another strike. Professor Sprout ran at the tree, waving her wand. "Wingardium Leviosa!" she cried loudly. As Remus watched, a tiny twig rose up from the ground, flew towards the flailing tree, and smacked up against the trunk. At first nothing happened. The willow was poised to strike. Then… then nothing. The Whomping Willow had frozen. The night was still again. For the first time, Remus became aware of how labored his breathing sounded.

Madam Pomfrey hurried over to Professor Sprout with Remus in tow. "Down there!" Sprout panted, pointing. Down by the roots of the tree, a tunnel had apparently been unearthed - quite large, large enough for two people. Dizzily, Remus stared down it. It was very dark, he couldn't even see how far it went.

Swiftly, Madam Pomfrey went first, taking Remus by the hand. She seemed to swallowed up by the tunnel. He made to follow her - just before he entered the passage, he felt Professor Sprout's eyes on his back as he disappeared into the darkness.

The tunnel was pitch-black, but smooth and earthy and evidently well-kept, as seen by the little light provided from Madam Pomfrey's wand. He felt a bit better, being out of the moon's direct light, but his insides were still churning like they were some kind of obscure potion Professor Slughorn kept on his desk. But eventually, direct light or no, he would fully transform. The wolf would take over, and the moon would laugh.

Gradually, the smooth dirt passageway began to change. Remus felt stairs underneath his feet, wooden stairs that creaked. The tunnel melted into an old shack, seemingly ancient, made of rotten boards and rusty metal. Rats squeaked in the peeling walls, and a layer of dust covered the floor. It looked abandoned.

They made their way up the staircase towards the apparent first floor of the house. There was evidence of a family living there at one time: rustic furniture that had been hastily swept to one side, moth-eaten curtains that covered boarded-up windows, and broken remnants of picture frames that lay discarded on the floor. It was all a rather sad scene. Remus glanced up at Madam Pomfrey, who was peering anxiously out of a crack in one of the boarded-up windows.

She turned towards him. "This is where I leave you," she murmured.

Remus nodded. He understood. "Thank you," he whispered.

Madam Pomfrey made a convulsive motion with her arm, almost as if she was going to pat Remus on the cheek, but she thought better of it. Gripping her wand tightly, she nodded back, and silently departed. The door from which they had entered shut, locked and bolted magically behind her.

Remus stood there silently for a moment. Then, as if ordered, he seized his robes and pulled them over his head, discarding them safely in a moldy old drawer found in the next room. His family didn't have the money to pay for new robes, so he couldn't afford to rip through his robes every time he transformed. He would have to transform naked. He felt like he should feel shame, but all he felt was fear.

What was going to happen? Would Dumbledore's plan even work?

He would find out soon enough.

Suddenly, a wave of nausea overtook him, and he fell against the wall, hugging his sides. Moonlight streamed through the cracks in the walls, creeping across the floor towards him… all of his bones were cracking now, his spine was elongating slowly, painfully, one bone at a time, while before his eyes, his fingers began to stretch, claws sprouting where his fingernails should be…

Remus was on all fours now, coughing up blood, all hair disappearing and fur growing there… a rapid agony suddenly stabbed at his mouth, and he knew that fangs must be replacing his teeth… something was searing in his veins, it blistered his skin… the room around him flickered while a strange sensation reached his eyes… his head felt like it was going to split open -

The wolf emerged. The moon laughed.

 

 

"I've never seen anything like it before."

"I should hope not. A creature like that should be put down."

"Erik!"

"It is only merciful."

"Mercy never crossed your mind. You are frightened!"

"As we all should be. I don't know what the Headmaster was thinking, letting a thing like that attend Hogwarts -"

"You be quiet, Erik! I'm ashamed at you - as the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher you should know that this is not Mr. Lupin's fault-"

"You'd be surprised about what I know about werewolves, Minerva."

"But I would not be surprised to hear what you think, Erik. We've all heard it plenty of times in the staffroom, we all know you're not afraid to voice your opinion."

"Oh, but it is not opinion, Minerva. It is fact."

A long and threatening pause followed.

"In your dreams, Erik."

 

 

The noise woke him first.

Crying.

Sobbing.

Remus was almost too familiar with the sound. Every morning after he changed back, he could hear his mother bawling behind the basement door…

Remus opened his eyes, then abruptly shut them again. The light hurt his eyes, but he knew where he was. He was back in the hospital wing, and in a closed ward - he could tell because the tiny mirror that hung on a nail in the corner was turned over, so that the glass faced the wall. Remus felt glad that he had done that beforehand. He couldn't even imagine what he looked like now.

Slowly, he propped himself up on his elbows trying to raise himself off the pillows a bit, but almost immediately fell backwards, gasping. Something sharp was digging into his stomach - two broken ribs, maybe three. He could feel it; he had a hard time breathing without wincing. Remus couldn't help but wonder about what had happened the previous night. He could barely remember a thing. He recalled waking up, curled up in a corner with the taste of blood on his tongue, desperately hoping that it wasn't anyone's besides his own…

He remembered voices. They were faint and far away, but they were definitely there, only he couldn't quite make out what they were saying…

There it was again. Crying.

Curiously, Remus made to get up, but his ribs and head moaned in protest. Stubbornly ignoring them, he swung his legs off the cot and, clutching one of the bed posts for support, stood. Stars flashed across his eyes as he took a feeble step towards the door. His ribs burned and screamed as he reached for the knob of the door - he gripped the doorknob, and as he did, he noticed that, in the process of the transformation, he had managed to bend his pinkie finger all the way back towards his knuckle, breaking it. The skin had split near the top of his palm; Madam Pomfrey had crossed both his hand and finger with bandages. Still, it looked quite bizarre.

Remus opened the door a crack. He saw a very empty hospital wing, but he still could hear crying. Madam Pomfrey was nowhere in sight.

He opened the door a bit wider. "Hullo?" he called. The crying ceased immediately.

"Hullo?" Remus said again, swinging the door open completely. By now, his ribs had had enough, and he collapsed against the doorframe and slid right down to the floor, gasping. Stars once again blurred his vision.

"Remus?" Someone said his name from the far end of the ward. Running footsteps. "Remus, is that you?" Someone was hurrying towards him. A red-haired, green-eyed somebody.

"What happened?" Lily asked anxiously, kneeling down beside him. "What's happened to your face?"

Remus didn't reply; he honestly didn't know. Out of curiosity, he reached up and felt it. A mound of dry blood seemed to replace his nose - it was broken. Perhaps that was Remus was finding it so hard to breathe.

"Lily," he wheezed with difficulty. "Why were you crying?"

She couldn't fool him. There were obvious tear tracks on her face and her bright green eyes were still wet. She replied thickly. "I wasn't crying."

"Lily." He stared up at her and smiled a little. "Yes, you were."

For a moment, Lily refused to meet his gaze, but it was almost like she couldn't escape it. She looked at him, dabbing furiously at her wet eyes. "It's just that moron - Lancaster," she explained, sounding as if she had a lump in her throat. "He found out that I was Muggle-born… so… he and a couple of his friends… they hit me. With their bags and things. Called me names."

"They hit you… called you names?" Remus knew that he must look pallid and weak on the outside, but inside he felt like his blood was boiling. He wanted to wring Lancaster's filthy neck.

Lily nodded and sniffled a bit more. Remus eyed her. He had a feeling that that wasn't the end of it.

"Lily…" he began slowly. "What did they call you?"

Lily was crying again; this time, she didn't bother to hide it. Using all the strength he could muster, Remus reached out and gripped her arm.

"Lily." he said again. "What did they call you?"

She glanced up at him, her bright green eyes now tinged with red. "'Mudblood'," she whispered. "They called me 'Mudblood'..."

And they sat there on the floor for a long while, leaning up against the doorway, Lily crying into Remus's burning shoulder.


	9. The Halloween Prank

Peter stared into the Common Room fire. It was nearly midnight, and the glowing fire had been reduced to mere embers hours before. James and Sirius had gone to bed, and Peter was the only one left in the Common Room. He was waiting for Remus, though with some sort of false hope. He had been waiting like this for the past few hours, and he doubted Remus was ever going to show up.

What was going on with Remus anyways? When Peter had brought Remus up to the hospital wing a few days ago, Madam Pomfrey seemingly panicked. She had shooed Peter away, locking the hospital door firmly behind her. He hadn't gone away - he just stood there for a moment, then anxiously pressed his ear against the door, trying to hear what was going on inside, but the doorway to the hospital wing was either enchanted or really thick. Peter couldn't hear a thing.

An owl hooted somewhere. Peter yawned.

Then he heard some shuffling steps. "P-P-Peter?" someone yawned. James. Bleary-eyed and dressed in striped pajamas. "Why are you still awake? I mean, I'm usually up for some wild party late at night, but-"

"I'm waiting for Remus," Peter muttered, doing his best to stifle a yawn and failing. "He should be back by now, don't you reckon?"

"I reckon," James said, frowning. "that he won't be back until tomorrow morning. Madam Pomfrey's overprotective, haven't you seen her? He wasn't back yesterday or the day before that, and he won't be back tonight-"

Peter nodded. "Yeah, but-"

"Pete, Remus is fine."

Peter huffed; James smiled.

"Here - Five Sickles he's back tomorrow morning."

"Five?" Peter protested.

"Four, then."

"Two."

"Three, fine, if you insist."

 

 

Peter awoke with James tapping him hard on the face.

"Pete, you awake? YOU AWAKE?" Immediately, Peter cringed.

"Crikey, James! Don't do that!" he yelled, covering his ears.

James was still smiling like a crazy person. "Why? Remus does it." He plopped down on the end of Peter's bed, adjusting his glasses over his nose.

"Speaking of Remus…" Peter glanced around their dormitory. It was seemingly empty besides himself, James, and Sirius who was still sleeping, snoring away. Peter sighed. "He's not here. I win-"

James's grin widened. "Not so fast, my friend! He's actually-" He whipped around, apparently expecting someone to be standing there, because his expression melted from triumph to surprise in a about a second flat.

"Where'd he go?"

At that moment, Remus came through the door of their dormitory, already changed into his robes but looking absolutely exhausted. There was also a white bandage crossing the bridge of his nose. "You two are actually four years old, aren't you?" he murmured. Peter guessed he must've been sick: he was definitely paler than usual and there were huge bags under his eyes, but he was smirking nonetheless.

James pumped his fist. "Three Sickles to me!" he yelled; Sirius stirred in his sleep and turned over, his mouth slightly open. James chuckled. "You'll do the honours, won't you, Remus?"

Remus smiled. "Certainly." He slowly made his way over to Sirius's side. "SIRIUS BLACK!"

"GAH!" Sirius screamed, leaping out of bed and falling on his face. "Ow," he moaned into the floor.

Peter laughed. "That's a new one," he teased, fishing a handful of Sickles out of his suitcase and handing them over to James. "Careful there, James, that there's my entire life savings-"

"It is not!"

"You're right, but most of it is-"

"Fine," James said stubbornly, but smiling. "But I get to keep one."

"That was not funny," Sirius said, his voice muffled once again by the carpet.

"It was, to be honest," admitted Remus with an air of slight embarrassment. "Come on, we'll be late to breakfast."

They grabbed the schoolbags and schedules and made their way down to the Common Room, climbing clumsily out the portrait hole.

"Where've you been, Remus?" Peter asked as he fell in step with Remus who was lingering a bit behind the rest of the group. "And what's happened to your nose?"

"I was sick," Remus said coolly. "Nasty bout of flu, she supposes - my mum, I mean. Always comes around. I'm not the healthiest person in the world, so-"

"Yeah, but what happened to your nose?"

Remus reached up and ran his finger across the slender bandage crossing his nose. He was frowning, as if he had forgotten about it. "Oh, yes… that… I, er… tripped."

"You tripped." Peter raised an eyebrow.

"Well, er, no." Peter got the impression that Remus was doing some very quick thinking. "I ran into a wall."

Peter stared at him. Now it seemed like Remus was just making up excuses, and pretty bad ones, it looked like. "You what?"

"Excuse me," James said, appearing in between them. It seemed like he had appeared out of nowhere. "Couldn't help but overhear - did Remus just say he ran into a wall?"

"Yes," said Peter, not taking his eyes off Remus. Remus definitely sounded like he was lying, but did not look like it. As a matter of fact, he appeared rather calm.

In front of them, Sirius stopped suddenly, and turned around; a grin had appeared on his face. "So - scouting out some girls, mate? Weren't looking where you were going?"

Remus's pale cheeks were becoming flushed. Peter very nearly choked on his tongue while James gagged and pretended to vomit. Sirius, however, looked vaguely neutral, like this was a regular topic to bring up in a conversation.

It was uncomfortably silent for a while except for James's pretend retching. Finally, Remus sighed, his face visibly red by now. "Fine," he huffed, smiling a bit. "Yes. You caught me."

James burst out laughing, nearly tumbling over the railing. Peter grinned over at him. "Let's not forget that time you fell over a stool staring after Celia St. Claire, shall we?"

Abruptly, James stopped laughing and stared over at Peter. "We do not speak of that," he said seriously.

"Oh, yes, we do!" chuckled Remus, gazing over at James. "When did this happen?"

"When you were still in hospital," said Sirius eagerly, coming to stand beside Remus. "You should've seen it, it was the funniest thing I'd ever seen in my life-"

"Can we not?" groaned James.

"Maybe we should re-enact it, just to show Remus-"

"No, Sirius!"

Laughing and joking with the others, Peter took his seat at the Gryffindor House table. The Great Hall was very full and bustling this morning, perhaps it was because today was the first Quidditch match of the season: Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff. Gryffindor wore bright scarlet; Hufflepuff, canary yellow. Both of the houses made sure to show their support for their teams. Every at the Gryffindor table, students were selling rosettes, hats, gloves, scarves, flags, and banners, all in the Gryffindor house colors. However, two tables over, the Hufflepuffs, clad in yellow and black, yelled and shouted as their team entered the Great Hall, waving and cheering loudly.

Sirius glanced over at them. "You reckon they'll beat us today? My family always thought Hufflepuff was a bit of a joke." He paused for a moment, frowning. "They thought every House was a joke, I guess, besides Slytherin."

"I don't know," Peter muttered, staring over at them. "They look pretty tough, don't they?"

"Never underestimate a Hufflepuff," said James suddenly as he took some toast with kipper. "That's what my dad always said."

Sirius looked over at him curiously. "Did he now?"

"Yeah, he said he thought Hufflepuffs were nonsense too once, but then he said he met someone who proved him wrong… what was his name… Norton? Noland? Neil, maybe… ? I can't remember… his last name was weird too - something like Salamander…? Dad said he really liked magical creatures - Erumpets and stuff…"

Peter found himself vaguely interested in what else James had to say about Erumpets, but James had promptly stopped in the middle of his sentence due to the fact that he had stuffed a whole piece of toast into his mouth and couldn't talk anymore. Peter turned to Remus. "What's a Erumpet?"

"I'm not sure," Remus admitted.

A loud cheer erupted once more from the Hufflepuff table. It apparently was time for the match to begin. The Hufflepuff Quidditch team yelled with their house as they jogged out of the Great Hall, pumping their fists and giving high-fives to random students.

Sirius frowned after them. "Why are they leaving? They just got here."

"They've got to prepare for the match, I suppose," said Remus wearily, running a hand through his hair. "You know, I've never really understood Quidditch."

James goggled at him. "I don't understand you," he retorted fiercely.

"Cheers," Remus murmured.

"Now girls, don't fight," Sirius said, smirking.

Peter grinned at them all as he stood up from the table. "We'd better get a move on," he told them, glancing towards the Great Hall's doors. The Gryffindor Quidditch team had entered the room to equally enthusiastic applause, clutching their broomsticks. "We don't want to get trampled - the game'll start soon."

"We'll definitely win," said Sirius confidently, craning his neck to try to get a better look at the Gryffindor team. "We have Griffiths, he's a great Chaser! And we have Oloughlin and Harwood! Hufflepuff has no chance!"

To Peter, it sounded like Sirius was trying to convince himself of that. But James said savagely again: "Never underestimate a Hufflepuff," and stuffed his mouth with more toast.

When they had finished with their breakfast, they stooped outside and headed towards the Quidditch field. Hogwarts, Peter had been told, was lucky to have its own Quidditch pitch, though he had heard that it wasn't nearly as tall and wide as the normal ones. As they approached it, Peter could see it in the distance - it looked large to him, huge and oval. Hundreds upon hundreds of seats were raised in stands above the pitch so that the students there could see what was happening. At each end of the field Peter could just make out three tall golden hoops glinting in the mist that hung above the stands.

As they approached the field, James let out a moan of longing. "I wish I was allowed to play Quidditch," he muttered moodily, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I could cream the lot of them."

Sirius put a comforting arm over James's shoulder. "Nah, Ayres would wallop you. Shall we go get seats?" Grinning, Sirius led them up to the very top of the stands, which revealed a very stunning view of the pitch indeed. Below them a very impressive crowd had formed in the stands, waiting impatiently for the match to start.

They took their seats. A stinging wind rushed by - Remus pulled his hands inside the sleeves of his sweater, shivering. "What happens now?" he asked James.

"There should be a commentator," muttered James in reply, staining to see. A separate stand faced them on the opposite side of the field. All their professors and teachers sat there, along with a green-clothed person clutching a microphone.

James swore loudly. "Slytherin," he groaned.

The Slytherin lifted the microphone up to his mouth. "Morning everybody! Darcy here, Jude Darcy - we're looking at good game today, very good, first game of the season… You'll see Hufflepuff entering the pitch on your left, Gryffindor on your right… but I guess that depends where you're sitting…!"

The crowd laughed. Peter noticed, with a wrench of jealousy, that most, if not all, of the girls were giggling up at Darcy. Now that Peter was looking at him, he noticed that Darcy was very good-looking: he had dark brown hair, blue eyes, freckles, and very white teeth that were almost blinding. He was grinning widely down at the crowd.

"I haven't seen him before," said Peter under his breath.

"I've seen him around," Remus said thoughtfully, frowning. "He's a year or two ahead of us, I think. One of Slughorn's favorites."

"Of course," Sirius muttered.

"His teeth should've come with a warning label," grumbled James, still moody.

"And the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor captains, Pachelli and Ayres, shake hands," said Darcy, still smiling. "This looks like it's going to be a good game, don't you agree?"

The crowd hollered in response.

"Oh, get on with it!" shouted Sirius.

Darcy continued. "Here comes Madam Hooch!" Peter stared down onto the field. Madam Hooch was approaching the teams, dragging behind her a huge and seemingly heavy black case. It almost looked like it was struggling. Violently, she threw the black case down in front of her and kicked it open. Immediately, a tiny golden streak zoomed out of it and vanished.

"That was the Snitch!" James yelled excitedly.

"And there go the Bludgers!" Sirius shouted, pointing at the large black blurs that shot out of the box right after the Snitch.

As soon as the Bludgers emerged, Madam Hooch blew her whistle and heaved a red ball the size of a football into the air - the Quaffle, James had told him. For a second, all was silent as the Quaffle soared above the player's heads.

"And the game begins!" cried Jude Darcy.

The crowd cheered wildly in response.

"And Tyree Pachelli takes the Quaffle - Pachelli has always been one of Hufflepuff's best, he's captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team after all - whoa, near miss! Bludger almost got him, excellent hit from Leslie Harwood, she packs a bigger punch than most - !"

The crowd gasped as Pachelli narrowly missed a Bludger hit once again from Harwood - startled, he dropped the Quaffle, and a tan girl with almond-shaped eyes caught it and swooped back towards Hufflepuff goal.

Applause from the Gryffindor side of the stands. Darcy was quick to comment. "Celestia Freestone catches the Quaffle - she was a new find last year, one of the best choices Ayres ever made-"

But before Darcy could finish, one of the Hufflepuff beaters swung a well-timed Bludger in Celestia's direction. She ducked to avoid it, and in turn, one of the opposing chasers, Olivares, slammed into her and grabbed the Quaffle.

James groaned. "C'mon, she could've beat that!" he protested.

"Olivia Olivares streaking up the pitch!" Darcy yelled. "She's almost to goal - course, she'll have to get past Ayres first, and he's -"

Olivares heaved the ball seemingly towards the left hoop; Ayres lunged, but Olivares was feiting. She threw the Quaffle directly through the middle hoop and scored. Ayres swore audibly.

"Come on!" scoffed Sirius.

"That's ten points to Hufflepuff - excellent shot, Olivia!" Darcy shouted as he made note of the score. Peter noticed that Olivares blushed as she returned to her position.

"Prat," James muttered.

"Gryffindor in position - no, Hufflepuff in position - nevermind, Lochlann Griffiths of Gryffindor takes the Quaffle - passes to Faiz - back to Griffiths - whoa, hold up! Was that the Snitch?"

Something tiny and gold was glittering near Griffiths ear - it was the Snitch!

The crowd rose to their feet, shouting even louder than before. "Go for it!" Sirius screamed at the Gryffindor Seeker, Peppin, who was looking wary. "What are you waiting for?"

With Peppin hesitating, the Hufflepuff Seeker dove down right at Griffiths. Barely two seconds before the Hufflepuff Seeker slammed into him, Griffiths threw the Quaffle towards Celestia Freestone, who barely caught it. However, the Hufflepuff Seeker promptly collided with Griffiths, almost knocking his off his broom.

"That was a close one!" Darcy gasped hugely as the crowd "ooed". "But here comes Freestone, closing in are the Hufflepuff Beaters, watch out Celestia -!"

Celestia yanked up her broom just in time. The Hufflepuff Beaters smashed into each other.

"You'll have to watch out boys, Celestia has one of the best brooms in the business!" teased Darcy. "And she's coming in for goal…"

Celestia threw the Quaffle.

"YES!" the Gryffindors shouted, leaping to their feet at once. The score was now ten to ten: tied. Celestia pumped her fist as she made a lap of honor around the pitch.

"I'm bored," Sirius said haughtily, watching as Celestia soared past him.

James stared at him. "You're bored?"

"Yes," Sirius said unnecessarily.

"But this is Quidditch! We're in for a good game! We're evenly matched… I'd say we're better, in fact! We'll beat Hufflepuff, you'll see, Sirius!"

"Four Sickles Hufflepuff wins the match?" said Sirius innocently.

"Galleons," James said stubbornly. "And a Knut."

"And a Knut," agreed Sirius, grinning.

 

 

"You owe me four Galleons," said Sirius as they slowly made their way back towards the castle. "Oh, and a Knut."

"Shut up," snapped James, who had shoved his hands angrily into his pockets and refused to take them out. Peter feared that he would punch somebody if he did.

Remus, however, was smiling. "Hufflepuff creamed us, didn't they?" he asked no one in particular.

They had indeed. Four hundred and thirty to fifty.

"We sucked," said James in a dead, hollow sort of voice.

Sirius slung his arm over his friend's shoulder. "Relax!" he said lightheartedly; James scowled. "I've got something to cheer you up!"

Peter frowned, but he felt himself perk up slightly with interest. "And what's that?"

Sirius turned towards Peter with this mischievous glint in his eye, something that told Peter that he was up to no good. No good at all.

"Depends," muttered Sirius, grinning at them all. "How do you feel about pranks?"

 

 

It was obvious how James felt about pranks.

He anticipated them. He cheered up immediately; it was as if Sirius had flipped a hidden switch and had suddenly brought the James Potter that they all knew back to life again.

"I can't wait!" he had screeched loudly once Sirius told him his plan. It was to take place on Halloween, a mere two weeks away, but James was impatient. He was eager to witness the results of the prank.

It was obvious how Sirius felt about pranks.

He absolutely loved them. He relished them, he enjoyed watching the look on people's faces (whether it be horrified or not) as the prank played out before them. Perhaps Sirius's degrading childhood had something to do with it. Peter could imagine Sirius jumping out at his mother every minute or so, or putting toadstools in his cousin's soup.

It was obvious how Remus felt about pranks.

"No!" he said loudly while Sirius laid out his plans before him.

"Don't be such a chicken, Remus," said Sirius, smirking. "Afraid we'll get detention?"

"You two have already got one, have you forgotten?" Remus asked pointedly.

James and Sirius looked at each other. "No," they said together.

"But it'll be more fun if you lads were there," said James quickly.

"Yeah, we could pull another prank!" added Sirius eagerly.

"I'm going to regret this," Remus muttered.

Peter was feeling rather neutral about the whole thing. He had pulled a few pranks at home himself, and they were the most fun he had ever had, but he knew that if they were caught, they would be in lots of trouble. Imagine if McGonagall spotted them-!

But when Sirius had elaborated on his plan, Peter found himself hardly able to resist. It was just too tempting.

"When do we start?" he heard himself ask.

"Are you kidding me?" Remus yelled.

Both James and Sirius jumped. "Steady on, mate!" Sirius hissed, while James rushed towards their dormitory door to check if it was tightly closed. Sirius had led them up to there as quickly as he could after dinner. "You'll blow our cover!"

"Excuse me?"

James raised his eyebrows back at them as he pulled out his wand. "Well - it's a secret, obviously… Colloportus," he whispered, pointing his wand at the door; it made a little squelching sound. "We don't want anyone to find out. It'll… it'll ruin the surprise," he finished lamely, smiling.

"A shock, more like," muttered Remus, looking down at the floor.

"I like to think of it as a… revelation," said Sirius, smirking. "Are you in or not?"

Remus frowned at the three of them, all grinning and staring at them like their lives depended on his answer. Finally, he sighed, long and loudly.

"Fine," he sniffed. "But if we get caught-"

"We'll all get punished together!" James said brightly. "This is great! What could go wrong?"

Remus groaned.

 

 

"This is stupid," said Remus.

"No, it's genius!" argued Sirius as they entered the Great Hall for supper. It was Halloween night, and the whole room was lavishly decorated. Hundreds, maybe a thousands of live bats fluttered on the walls of the hall and ceiling while a several more swooped over the tables in low black clouds. Carved orange pumpkins sat in the center of each table, wide and proud with shivering candles set inside of them. The enchanted ceiling, meanwhile, was a rich profuse black that matched the students' school robes.

"Woah," Peter said as they sat down at their house table. It was laden to the brim with all sorts of foods not found there normally, or even at the start-of-term feast. Oysters, caviar, quince, pork, and tiny glasses filled with strawberry sorbet. "They've really outdone themselves this time, haven't they?"

"Who?" asked James matter-of-factly, spooning some gateau onto his plate. "We don't know who makes the feasts, do we?"

Remus swatted a bat out of his face. "No," he replied, watching as it flew away and tangled itself in Marlene McKimmon's hair. Then he turned towards Sirius. "What's your plan?"

"Easy," said Sirius, seizing a plate of red gelatin that Peter had been eyeing. "Revenge. 'Scuse me, Pete."

"Hey!" Peter protested.

"Follow me, lads!" Sirius said loudly, climbing out of his seat and hurrying towards the Slytherin table. James followed him immediately. Remus and Peter eyed each other uncertainly.

"Join in later?" Peter asked hesitantly.

"Certainly," said Remus, to Peter's surprise. "Pass the potatoes."

Grinning, Peter slid them across the table towards Remus, but shifted his weight a little so that he could watch Sirius and James over Remus's shoulder. Now they were creeping up behind Jude Darcy, who seemed to just have told a highly amusing joke to a group of awed girl sitting around him. They were all laughing.

Sirius, who all of a sudden looked very solemn, handed the plate of gelatin to James. James grinned and nodded, taking the plate of gelatin and slamming it over Darcy's head.

Darcy screamed and groped around in his hair. Chunks of gelatin stuck there, while red juice streamed down his face and neck; it almost looked like blood. Furiously, Darcy grabbed his plate of chocolate cake and whipped around - James and Sirius had ducked down just in time - and heaved at the next person passing - Celia St. Claire.

It struck her face so suddenly she was sent stumbling backwards into her group of friends. Icing was stuck to her hair and it covered her face, but she somehow still managed to look attractive. She glared at Darcy and seized a pitcher of lemonade, emptying it over his head. He responded by letting out a yell and chucked a bowl of quince at her; she ducked and it hit Tyree Pachelli of Hufflepuff in the back of the head. He turned towards them and launched a quivering mountain of pudding in Darcy's direction. He shrieked and dashed out of the way, so that it hit his giggling group of fangirls instead.

Sirius, apparently, had deemed it safe to reveal himself, because he was standing up. In the midst of the flying fare, he suddenly yelled, "FOOD FIGHT!" and began to attack Narcissa Black with pieces of tart.

It was like Sirius had forced them all to obey him; immediately, they dropped everything, snatched the food that was closest to them, and threw it. The teachers, who had been sitting calmly at the staff table, were frantically trying to restore order. Dumbledore, however, was still sitting at his place at the staff table, smiling.

Peter, meanwhile, was throwing every food he could reach; he wasn't even aiming at anything. Remus had taken advantage of the situation and was flinging globs of sorbet at Lancaster. Lily, it seemed, was doing it with him, but she had a frown on her face, almost like she didn't know what she was doing.

On the other side of the hall, James had gotten hold of a bowl filled with hard-boiled eggs and was chasing Severus Snape around the room, chucking them at his head. He had apparently hit Snape many times; there were eggshells in his greasy hair and he was fuming. He had his wand out and was shooting hex after hex at James, but James dodged them like they were Bludgers on a Quidditch field.

Sirius was lobbing bowlfuls of mousse at his cousin Narcissa and Slytherin prefect Lucius Malfoy. Both had enchanted several plates to hover in front of them like some bizarrely-shaped shield. Many of the plates were covered in mousse.

"Stop all this!" McGonagall was shouting. She ducked as a cantaloupe soared above her head and splattered against the wall. "Stop this AT ONCE!"

When nothing happened, she raised her wand performed a giant sweeping motion - everyone froze. Promptly, all the food returned to its proper place on the table, with the exception of the food that had already been destroyed. She waved her wand again and all the students could move again. They stared up at Professor McGonagall, confused.

"I am disgusted!" she yelled at them all, still brandishing her wand. The entirety of the school backed away, clearly terrified. "This behaviour is revolting and extremely immature!" McGonagall paused for breath, glaring down at them all. "Come now!" she barked. "Step forward! Who started this?"

Peter glanced over at Sirius and James, whose faces were set. In unison, they made their way towards the front of the group.

"It was us," Sirius said, unabashed.

"Us, yeah. Just us. We are prepared for punishment," added James, the corners of his mouth twitching.

Peter felt his own mouth fall open. They didn't care. They just did it all for the fun of it.

"Well!" McGonagall started. "I can't say that this is entirely unexpected, but I am severely disappointed with you two! Fifteen points from Gryffindor, and I am sorry to say-"

"And me," said a quiet voice, stepping forward to stand beside Sirius and James. It was Remus. Unlike the two of his friends, he looked ashamed and rather anxious, but he stood his ground. "It was me too, Professor."

McGonagall stared down at his in utter astonishment. "Mr. Lupin…?" she asked, as if she couldn't believe her eyes.

He nodded up at her. Something tugged in Peter's gut. Something like raw loyalty and emotion. Without pausing to think what he was doing, Peter ran towards his friends. "And me!" he cried, coming to a sudden halt beside Remus. He felt out of breath, for some reason. "It was me too."

The four of them stood them, facing the teaching staff. Peter didn't know why, but he felt safe standing them, nervous as he was. James and Sirius were glancing down the line at Remus and him, and they didn't even bother keeping the smiles off their faces.

"Oh, I'm proud of you lot," said James abruptly, his grin widening.

James's voice seemed to have brought Professor McGonagall back to reality. "Well!" she said again, her voice a bit harder this time. "I can hardly believe this! I expected more from you. Especially from you, Mr. Lupin," she said, frowning down at him. He flushed and stared down at his shoes. McGonagall's frown deepened, but she continued. "Detention for all of you! I fail to see how this act of immaturity is amusing in any way. However-" Sirius, James, and Peter looked up at her. Her eyes glittered. "I appreciate your honesty. I will… retract… the fifteen points taken from you earlier." McGonagall stared intently at them; Peter swore he saw a shadow of a smile flicker across her face. "This is your first and final warning." And with that, she dismissed them, sweeping out of the Great Hall followed by her fellow professors.

Peter hardly dared to believe it. They had gotten away with it! Well, not entirely, but this was a huge success! A food fight involving the entire school, and they had only gotten detentions…!

Sirius had folded them all in a hug. "That was amazing!" he shouted.

"We got detentions!" James yelled, like it was a huge achievement.

"Seems like you're still McGonagall's favourite, eh James?" said Peter cheerfully.

"You're squishing me," mumbled Remus into Sirius's arm.

Sirius released them all, eyes locked with Remus. "Well?" he asked keenly. "What did you think?"

Remus remained straight-faced for a while. For a minute, Peter feared he might start yelling at them; he had a habit of staying expressionless before he let out a burst of anger.

Instead, Remus grinned at them all. "That was brilliant!" he said, his eyes alight with excitement. "When's the next one?

 

 

Their detentions were scheduled the next day. They had all been told to meet in the Transfiguration classroom around eight o'clock. Peter arrived there a few minutes early, and he was surprised to see that he was the only one that was there. The twisted feeling that was nervousness was slowly growing in his stomach. Swallowing, he pulled up a chair and waited.

Not even a minute had passed when James entered the room, almost looking like he was lost. "Oy, Pete! You're here, thank goodness - d'you where our detention is supposed to be?"

"It's… in here," said Peter, confused.

"Oh," James muttered, scratching the back of his neck. "Uh… I got lost."

"I figured," said Peter awkwardly.

At that moment, Remus walked in, pallid and shaking. "Remus!" Peter yelled, rushing over to him. "Remus, mate, what happened?"

"Sit down, for God's sake!" James said, helping Peter ease Remus into a chair. It seemed like he could barely breathe.

"Feel… sick…" he choked, bending over. "Think… I…"

"He's really ill," Peter said worriedly. "I don't think he should do his detention tonight…"

James nodded. "You're right. I'll go tell Professor - hullo Sirius, what's happening?"

Sirius had just skidded into the classroom, his face flushed like he had been running a long way. "McGonagall… just sent me," he panted, leaning up against the wall. "Detention cancelled - she said something's come up…. What's wrong with Remus?" he asked, suddenly much more alert.

"He's sick, mate. I think it's something really serious we should get him to the… hospital… " James broke off suddenly, staring out the window. A light had started to grow in the corner of the window. "Hullo," James murmured, walking towards it. "What's that?"

"What is it?" Sirius asked, followed James towards the window. The light was shrinking. Quickly, Sirius unlatched it and threw the window open. There was no light. Only trees. Tall dark trees that loomed over Hogwarts with thick trunks, curved branches and twisted roots. Stars twinkled above them, accompanied by a very nearly full moon.

"There's nothing there," Peter said obviously.

Near the front of the classroom, Remus was starting to convulse. "Lads? C-close the window… p-please…" He slid out of his chair a little. "Please…"

Concerned, Sirius began to shut the window, but James elbowed him hard in the ribs. "Sirius! Look!"

He pointed. Peter squinted alongside Sirius; he could just make out a tall thin figure wrapped in a thick black traveling cloak enter the tall twisted wood, brandishing his wand like a flashlight. He paused for moment, looking to his left and right as if checking to see if he was being followed. Then, without warning, dashed off into the forest.

"Professor Dumbledore…!" Sirius gasped, eyes as wide as dinner plates. "What do you think he's doing?"

James frowned after Dumbledore. "I don't know," he muttered. "But it looks awfully dodgy to me." And he leaned forwards to close the classroom window.


	10. The Invisibility Cloak

"Something's up," muttered James, not touching his breakfast. "Something's not right here."

"The eggs are fine," said Peter, confused, glancing down at his plate.

"Not the food," James snapped. "Something's wrong here at Hogwarts!"

"Steady on, mate!" said Sirius, stifling a yawn. "What wrong with you?"

James frowned over at Sirius. "Nothing's wrong with me!" he said loudly, a bit offended. "Something's wrong with Hogwarts!"

"How would you know? You've only been here two months," said Peter stiffly.

Sirius blinked at them both. "What's up with you two?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Nothing!" James and Peter snarled at the same time. Sirius looked taken aback by their sudden burst of anger; James immediately regretted saying it the minute it came out of his mouth.

Sirius glared at them, suddenly moody. Violently, he stabbed a helpless kipper on a passing platter and shoved it in his mouth. "The last thing I want is you lads arguing," he muttered. "Especially on my birthday."

"Well, we'll make sure to- wait," James felt himself straighten up in his seat. Something tugged in the pit of his stomach, like a feeling that he had forgotten something of crucial importance-

James gasped. "Blimey! Sirius… it isn't-"

"Yep," said Sirius, downing his pumpkin juice in one like it was a shot.

"Sirius!" Peter shouted. "Why didn't you mention it before?"

Sirius bit his lip. "I did… honestly, it doesn't matter-"

"You're lying," Peter said immediately. "It matters more than anything."

"I can't believe I forgot," moaned James, banging his head on the table. "Stupid, stupid, stupid-"

"Alright you lot, calm down!" exclaimed Sirius, barely able to restrain a grin. "You're right. I'm extremely offended that you forgot my birthday and you shall regret it for the rest of your lives."

Peter glanced up at him, alarmed. "Why?"

Sirius frowned vaguely and stared up at the ceiling. "I'm not sure yet. But you'll pay eventually."

Sirius was grinning, but James somehow knew that he was crushed. How could James forget his birthday? What kind of friend was he? He felt like a wave of guilt had crashed into him. Angrily, James squared his shoulders and stuffed a spoonful of eggs into his mouth. "I'll make it up to you, mate," he said, spraying bits of egg everywhere. "I'll buy you the fanciest, most expensive thing in the catalog when it comes next week, I promise."

Sirius flicked some chewed egg off the arm of his robes. "Appreciate it." He said this stiffly, but James knew that he was grateful.

Peter, meanwhile, still looked worried about what Sirius was going to do to them, but he seemed to manage to push that aside for a moment. "I'll get you a present too, Sirius," he added. "And I'm sure Remus will too… wherever he is."

"He's in the hospital wing, isn't he?" said Sirius, reaching for the pitcher of pumpkin juice. "Didn't you see him on Monday?"

"Of course he did," James scoffed. "And I'm sure he's fine. Peter, you worry too much."

James saw Peter roll his eyes.

 

 

The day rushed past and it was already dark out. Students still lingered in the Common Room, and James, Sirius, and Peter had taken their favourite spots by the fire, which was crackling merrily in the large square fireplace. They had been teasing Peter about how he had been approached by a third-year girl during supper. She had proceeded to flirt with him, and awkwardness had ensued.

"You'll be the first one of us married - you'll see, Pete," James chortled.

Peter scowled at the pair at them, but smiled. "Nah, I reckon Sirius will first."

Sirius snorted loudly through his nose. "Not likely," he chuckled.

"Why, Sirius?" a quiet, weary-sounding voice said behind them. "You scared of girls?"

They all turned around. "Remus!" they shouted together.

James ran at him. "Where you been, mate? You feel better?"

Remus laughed. "I'm fine, lads."

James frowned at him. He certainly did not look fine. He was still dressed in his blue and white striped pajamas, though he had pulled his ratty old robes over his head, but hadn't managed to get one of his arms through the sleeve. His eyes were bloodshot, like he'd drank too much, and his face was grey. There was also a nasty cut above his lip, but he was grinning at them all. He was clutching a small package in one hand. "There you are, mate. It's not much, but… it's something, to say the least." He handed the package to Sirius. "I take it they didn't remember?" Remus raised his eyebrows at James and Peter in a reprimanding sort of way.

"Yeah," Sirius replied, grinning back at him. Eagerly, he ripped off the paper, revealing a very tiny version of the solar system. The sun, a sparkling sphere the size of a Ping-Pong ball, hovered in the center, while thousands of bright diamonds that were plants and stars slowly revolved around it.

"Blimey!" Peter gasped. "That's amazing!"

"Brilliant," James murmured, staring at it. "Where'd you get it?"

Remus flushed. "It was my dad's," he said. "He got it awhile ago at Twinkle's Telescopes in Diagon Alley for... I dunno," Remus finished hastily, turning a bit redder. "He just likes planets, I guess."

"Excellent," muttered Sirius, staring at the marvellous object sitting in his palm. "Now we can all skive off Astronomy!"

Remus laughed humorlessly, sinking into an armchair. James noticed that he winced. "Not likely," he murmured. "That's… probably illegal, or something."

"Speaking of illegal…" said Sirius, frowning. "Didn't Dumbledore say that the Forbidden Forest was off-limits?"

"To everyone except himself, apparently," said James, flopping down in the chair opposite Remus. "What do you reckon?"

"Maybe there was someone he had to talk to someone in there," said Peter thoughtfully.

James bit his lip. "I don't think so…" He glanced down at the fire, still quivering in its own dim light. "Nothing but deer in there-"

"I heard Peppin mention something about unicorns," added Sirius.

"Yeah, well, Peppin's a prat!" said James hotly. "Did you see him during the game?"

Remus quickly stepped in. "Calm down, please. And it might do me some good if you kept your voices down." He paused, like he was steeling himself to say something. "Madam Pomfrey doesn't know I'm here."

Immediately, James turned towards him. There was something in Remus's voice that James didn't like at all. "Madam Pomfrey?" asked James, his frown deepening. "What do you mean, 'she doesn't know you're here?'"

Remus sighed loudly, looking around at them all. James, Sirius, and Peter's eyes were all fixed on him. Peter's mouth was slightly open, as if he had just noticed what was going on.

"Remus…" Sirius started slowly. "What are you hiding?"

Remus sighed again, this time, looking down at his hands. Out of the corner of his eye, James saw Sirius glance at him. There was notable suspicion written on his face.

"I…" Remus gulped. "I'm sorry. I should have told you sooner…"

Peter raised an eyebrow. "What?" He drew a bit closer to Remus. "Told us what, Remus?"

Easing up a bit, Remus took a deep breath. "My… my mum's ill. Really ill. Professor McGonagall told me before our detention. That's why she called it off, and that's why I was so… well." He smiled faintly at them. James remembered how Remus had been pale and shaking that night. Apparently it had been out of shock.

"That's awful," murmured Sirius, refusing to take his eyes off Remus. "With what?"

"We - they don't know. The healers, I mean," said Remus, sniffling a little. "Some people came from St. Mungo's… dad was horrified…" He broke off suddenly, staring above James's head at the wall behind him.

James somehow felt annoyed at this lack of attention. "I'm sorry," he said, trying to sound as sorry as he could. "But… um, why would it matter if Madam Pomfrey didn't know you were here?"

"Ah." Remus nodded and smiled, though to James it looked more like a grimace. "Madam Pomfrey - you know how she fusses."

"Hm," said Sirius. On his other side, James pursed his lips. He had no idea what Sirius meant by this, so he decided that it was best to keep his mouth shut. Peter, on the other hand, seemed to find this answer acceptable.

"When will Madam Pomfrey let you out, Remus?" he piped up.

"With luck, sometime tomorrow afternoon," said Remus slowly getting to his feet. "I'd better be getting back now - Sirius, happy birthday, mate!" he called, as he made his way back through the portrait hole. "Have a good one!"

"A good one?" scoffed Sirius, still clutching the tiny model of the solar system. "My birthday's already over!"

 

 

They stayed up late that night, admiring the miniature model of the solar system and celebrating Sirius's birthday with the biggest pillow fight "the world had ever known," Peter had called it. James joined in right away, but he felt something tugging at the back of his mind. He couldn't tell if it was about Remus's suspicious behaviour, Dumbledore's motive for going into the Forbidden Forest alone, or the ever-pressing guilt about completely forgetting Sirius's birthday. He suspected that it was all three of them, and he found himself dreaming about Quidditch and unicorns.

 

 

Remus didn't meet them in their dormitory, nor down at breakfast. In fact, they didn't catch sight of him until the middle of Charms.

"Remus! Where you been?" Sirius muttered, sparing a glance over his shoulder. Remus was sitting alone at the table behind them, and was smiling at the back of their heads.

"Madam Pomfrey's very stubborn, you know," said Remus matter-of-factly. "Professor Dumbledore had to force his hand."

James perked up. "So he's back then?"

Remus frowned. "Back? Where's he gone?"

"We saw Dumbledore heading into the Forbidden Forest Monday night," Peter said quickly, making sure no one else could hear him. "What do you reckon?"

"I reckon Professor Dumbledore is up to no good," said Sirius, smirking as he turned back to face the front of the classroom.

"Don't be stupid," Remus retorted, staring down at the desk like he was trying to make it move. "He knows what he's doing."

"How do you know?" asked James savagely.

"He's Dumbledore, that's why," sniffed Remus with an air of finality.

Sirius snorted. "No offense Remus, but that's the lamest thing I've heard you say ever since we got here, and that's - ow!" He yelped, as Remus jabbed the back of his wand at the back of Sirius's head. "Careful!"

There was silence for a moment as they all returned to the teacups they were supposed to be levitating. Peter broke his within five seconds and shards flew all over the table; Sirius let out a sudden gasp and turned back around to face Remus, whipping his wand sharply so that his teacup sailed past Remus's head, barely missing it.

"Steady on, mate!" yelled Remus, ducking to avoid the teacup. It crashed against the wall behind him and shattered.

"Mr. Black!" shouted tiny Professor Flitwick.

"Sorry, Professor!" Sirius said, waving his hand apologetically. Then he whispered hastily under his breath, "That reminds me - we never found out what happened to Paige, did we?"

James frowned. He didn't remember anyone named Paige.

"Paige… Vaughan?" Remus asked, wincing as he forced himself upright in his chair. "The girl we met in Herbology that afternoon?"

"That's one way of putting it," muttered Peter under his breath.

"The girl who went berserk and almost killed us?" suggested James helpfully.

"That's another way of putting it," Sirius pointed out. "Still… what happened? We know Sprout managed to get her under control… at least, for a little while…"

Peter laughed. "What's with the sudden interest? You in love with her now?"

Sirius opened his mouth to reply, but he didn't have to. James did for him. "No," he snorted. "But aren't you curious? Curious, at all?"

James and Sirius both gazed at Remus and Peter expectedly. James knew that himself and Sirius were, at least, at the moment, practically buzzing with interest. Why had Paige acted that way? He was determined to find out.

At last, Remus sighed. "You've got me there - I am curious-"

"Yes!" James and Sirius shouted together, giving each other a high-five. James nearly upset his teacup.

"-but what do you want to do about it?" Remus finished, fighting to keep a smile off of his face. "Are we detectives now?"

Sirius grinned broadly. "Why not?"

"Paige was acting a bit dodgy…" Peter started uneasily.

"Dodgy?" James protested. "She was downright barmy, that's the word you were after."

Sirius was bouncing up and down in his chair like he was trying to achieve liftoff. "When do we start investigating?" he asked eagerly.

"'Investigating?'" Remus repeated, chuckling. "Blimey, have we stepped off the pages of an Agatha Christie novel?"

Sirius stared at him blankly. "Who?"

"Nevermind," said Peter hastily, grinning alongside Remus. "I don't think it's a question of when… what about a question of where?"

"Well done, Pete!" said James formally, as if he were the Prime Minister honouring Peter with some prestigious award. Peter flushed with pride. "Where did they take Paige, anyways?"

"Hospital wing," said Sirius and Peter at the same time.

"Says you," muttered Remus. "For all we know, she could've been taken to St. Mungo's."

"Which wouldn't be out of the question," replied James quietly, surveying the area. Most of the class had gone back to levitating teacups, although Lily Evans was glancing over her shoulder, glowering at them. Professor Flitwick was also headed their way, looking cross.

"We'll discuss this later, eh?" James said shortly, turning around to face the front of the room. Evans was still frowning at him. Next to James, Sirius frowned right back. "Problem, Ginger?" he said, grinning. Evans made a face at him and turned away.

"When do we start?" James heard Peter hiss in his ear on his other side. Professor Flitwick had passed them by.

"After the holidays, I reckon," said James seriously. "Remus will kill us if he doesn't get enough time to finish his homework."

 

 

Thankfully, the flood of assignments and tests they were expecting never came. Their professors seemed to sympathize, at least, with the first-years, and announced that their holiday break would be homework-free; their news was welcomed with an outbreak of cheers. There was the exception of Professor Binns, who wasted no time in giving them the task of completing a foot-and-a-half long essay about the Soap Blizzard of 1378 and its significance. But James pushed that far back into his mind. He didn't need to think about that for a while. He had been hoping that he could stay at Hogwarts over Christmas, and he had sent a letter to his parents voicing his request. They had said yes - James didn't even need to read their reply.

He was then delighted to hear that Sirius, Remus, and Peter could stay over the holidays. James remembered how Sirius had some difficulty getting along with his parents.

"That's an understatement," Sirius muttered when James told him what he had thought.

James stared at Sirius. "But… how'd you get them to agree?"

Sirius frowned, freezing with a Chocolate Frog halfway to his mouth. "Agree to what?" He sounded honestly puzzled.

James frowned with him. "Agree to let you stay, of course."

"Oh." Sirius popped the Frog into his mouth. "I didn't."

That just made James admire Sirius even more.

Everyone at Hogwarts seemed to be anticipating the holidays; the ghosts too joined in with the student's enthusiasm for Christmas. Peeves, of course, was no exception to this. Peeves was Hogwarts' resident poltergeist. He had apparently made it his duty to cause as much mischief and mayhem as humanly - or as ghostly - possible. Master of Misconduct, Commander of Chaos, as Remus artfully described him when they wrung out their hats after one of Peeves' many escapades.

"You know, I wonder why Dumbledore doesn't crack down on disciplining that idiot," yelled Peter as they dashed away from Peeves, who was laughing maniacally as he pelted them with bits of chalk.

It wasn't until that evening a soft, powdery snow began to fall. The next morning, when James looked out his window, he saw that the lake had frozen over - the surface had turned into a glossy, smooth shine like a pale blue marble. He found himself mesmerised, staring out at the winter wonderland until Sirius waved a hand in front of his face.

"Oy, mate! It's break!"

They celebrated with a late breakfast and a snowball fight out on the grounds. But all the while, James found himself pondering just how they were going to figure out what was wrong with Paige Vaughan, and how they were going to discover what Dumbledore was up to…

 

 

James fell into a restless and uneasy sleep on Christmas Eve. So far, their efforts had been fruitless in finding out anything, about Paige or Dumbledore. Peter had checked the hospital wing the day before, but it was completely empty. This seemed to confirm Remus's suspicions about having Paige moved to St. Mungo's, but that meant that their chances of finding out what went wrong with her were close to nothing. They had also tried to tail Dumbledore in the past week, but Dumbledore somehow seemed to know what they were up to. Sirius fell in pace behind Dumbledore one afternoon, and as Sirius followed him around a corner, he simply wasn't there. He had completely vanished into thin air.

"Invisibility Cloak, maybe?" suggested an exhausted Remus around two o'clock in the morning.

"Not likely," muttered Sirius, barely stifling a huge yawn. "Would Dumbledore be the type to drag around Invisibility Cloaks all day long?"

"Maybe," James replied mysteriously as he disappeared up the stairs to go to bed.

These things just didn't add up. Sirius was right; Dumbledore just wasn't the type to tote around Invisibility Cloaks in his spare time. Dumbledore must've known that he was being followed. Would he confront James next? Demand to stop this foolishness at once and to stop following him around Hogwarts?

James's thoughts were violently interrupted by a sharp blow on the back of his head. "Get up, you ninny!" Sirius yelled right next to his face. "It's Christmas!"

James got up at once, his ears ringing and head throbbing. "Blimey, mate, what was that for?" he groaned.

"For forgetting my birthday, you pompous prat," said Sirius evidently. "Obviously."

"Obviously," repeated James dully, rubbing his sore head, but it quickly faded away when he noticed the heap of presents at the base of his bed.

"Presents!" he yelled.

Peter sat up, apparently unable to withstand their shouts any longer. "Uh, what?" He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes frantically. "Presents?"

Sirius ran at him and whacked him upside the head with a pillow. Peter fell right off the bed onto the floor.

"Ow! What was that for?" yelped Peter.

"You forgot my birthday!" said Sirius, but he was smiling. "But it's Christmas, so I'm feeling generous." He tossed a large wrapped box into Peter's lap. "Have a present."

"Thanks," mumbled Peter, nursing the lump on the back of his head. "Thanks very much!"

Sirius beamed. "You're welcome."

James, by this point, couldn't stand it, and had begun to rummage through his presents. Quickly, he found the one from Sirius and tore it open. Inside was a small working model of one of those world-class racing brooms James could never remember the name of. He scanned the broom as it zoomed around and around their heads like a little owl… he realized with a start. That gold lettering… that mahogany handle… how could he not have noticed before?

"A Nimbus 1500!" gasped James. "Woah…"

"Sorry I couldn't get you the real thing," said Sirius, smirking and crossing his arms. "I only have so many Galleons - it's just so damn expensive!"

"Watch your mouth," came a sudden voice near the doorway. Remus stood there, already dressed in trousers and an old jumper.

"Yes, Mother," said Sirius scornfully.

Remus frowned. "Knowing what you think about your mother, I'm not sure I should take that as a compliment."

"You shouldn't," said Sirius, shuddering. "And thank you, but I needn't be reminded of her on Christmas morning. You ruined my day!"

Remus rolled his eyes. "Please accept my humblest apologies," he muttered, and stiffly bowed.

Sirius's eyes twinkled. "Apology accepted." (Remus rolled his eyes again.) He turned to James again and gestured towards the miniature Nimbus. "Yeah… one only gets so much pocket money."

James watched it soar past his ear out of the corner of his eye. "That's alright," he said fondly, snatching it up as it made a sudden dive towards the floor. He grinned. "You just wait until I get it in the actual size."

And he let the broom go, then snatched it up again. Peter watched him, mouth agape. "Blimey, James! I reckon you could try out for the Quidditch team!"

"What?"

"Well, I mean, with reflexes like that, you could get in as Seeker, couldn't you?" said Peter.

James tried to look modest and failed. "I don't know about that," he said, puffing out his chest a little. "I'd rather go for Chaser."

"I'd rather see you as Seeker than that prat Peppin," sniffed Sirius.

"Prat," echoed James, sniffing also.

"Mm," said Remus, watching them both silently. The corners of his mouth were twitching. "Why don't we exchange presents now?"

Remus had gotten James a large box of his favourite kind of sweet: Sugar Quills. Grinning, James set these aside. He would save those for a boring History of Magic Class. Peter, in turn, had given him a round colourful toy that looked vaguely like a top. James stared at it.

"It's a Pocket Sneakoscope!" Peter explained eagerly. "It lights up and spins when there's someone untrustworthy around. At least, it's supposed to…" His voice faltered.

Curiously, Remus picked it up. "What do you mean, 'supposed to?'" And as if on cue, the Sneakoscope let out an unearthly shriek, and began spinning around and flashing like some kind of bizarre little Christmas tree.

Remus shoved the top underneath a nearby pillow; it quivered as the Sneakoscope continued to spin.

James grinned over at Remus. "Alright Remus, what have you been doing?"

"Ha, ha," said Remus humorlessly. "If you must know, I've been doing as you've asked: I've been sticking to Professor Dumbledore like your aunt's toffee pudding."

"Must be ghastly, my aunt's toffee pudding is terrible," said Sirius bracingly. "And?"

"And nothing." Remus sighed. "He's gone, apparently."

"Gone again?" James mumbled, chewing his lip. "Dumbledore, what're you up to?"

"We won't know for a while," said Peter cheerfully as he bit into a Licorice Wand. "In the meantime, James, open your last present!" He nodded towards a solid square package that was seated on the edge of James's bed.

Seizing the package, James ripped off the paper in a frenzy, revealing a smooth wooden box with gold hinges. Now James was honestly curious. Frowning, he pried open the box, which fell open with an eerie creeaakk! It revealed what looked like some sort of cloak. Atop the cloak sat a note written in blue, loopy handwriting.

To my only son,

May this assist you in your many adventures in this wonderful new century.

Your Loving Dad

James read the card in silence.

"What is it?" asked Sirius, his brow furrowing.

Finally, James tore his eyes away from the note. "Some sort of cloak I reckon." He tugged it out and swung it over his shoulder. "I dunno whether it was-"

"James!" Peter yelled suddenly.

"Blimey!" said Remus, his eyes as wide as dinner plates.

"Cool," said Sirius, his pale face splitting into a smile.

"What?" demanded James, turning around in a circle. "What? C'mon, tell me!"

Peter scooted away from him. "J-James-"

"Half of you's gone," said Sirius, smirking. He leaned up against the bedpost."Where'd the rest of you go?"

"What?" shouted James, seriously alarmed now. Still clutching the cloak, he rushed over to the mirror set up against the wall of their dormitory and stared in awe at his reflection.

Sirius was right. He was only half there. It was as if half his body had just… disappeared.

For a moment, James watched himself think in the mirror. Eventually, something dawned on him. He fumbled the cloak between his fingers. "I wonder…" Then, without a second thought, he swung the cloak over his head.

Peter yelped. "James!" he yelled. "Where'd you go?"

"You seriously can't see me?" James said, moving forward a few paces.

"Seriously," said Sirius. "And that's coming from me."

"You're completely invisible!" gasped Remus, scanning the room like he was still trying to spot James somehow. "I don't believe it! You've got an-"

"Invisibility Cloak," finished James, yanking the cloak off his head. He winked "Yeah, I pretty much figured it out for myself."

"How ironic," muttered Remus, shaking his head and grinning.

"Who gave it to you?" Peter asked, apparently deciding that it was safe to come a bit closer.

James shrugged. "My dad." He said this like it was some throwaway comment, like it was no big deal. But it was at that moment when he had a sudden rush of gratitude for his parents, and he decided that he would write to them every week from then on.


	11. Gryffindor's Rival

Out of all of his Christmas presents, James liked the Invisibility Cloak the best - Sirius could tell. For the first couple weeks after the end of break, James toted the thing around everywhere like an obsessed toddler with his favourite toy. Remus often pointed this out.

"No, it's not!" James protested. "What if we want to follow Dumbledore somewhere? We don't wanna be seen, do we?"

James was right, of course, but most of the time he used the cloak to play numerous pranks on Snape, Evans, and Lancaster. He dropped food onto their heads, shoved them from behind, or just smashed right into them when they were walking down the corridors. Once, James nearly lost the cloak during a prank when it got caught on the corner of a desk, but he managed to yank it off before Evans could notice.

Remus, predictably, didn't approve.

"You will get caught eventually," he pointed out during breakfast one morning.

James just scoffed.

Despite the revelation of the invisibility cloak, Sirius found himself absolutely miserable. Both Lancasters were bullying him ruthlessly. Sirius was no stranger to bullying - it seemed to be his parents' favourite hobby- but the Lancasters were almost worse. Almost.

"Late again, Black?" Lancaster sneered as Sirius strode into the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Peter and James were just behind him. "That'll be five points from Gryffindor. Take your seat."

Sirius didn't even bother to protest. It was three-fifteen, he was right on time! A week ago, he would've screamed and chucked his books at the professor, but he had learned to tame his feelings. He yawned, and the angry, churning thing turning in his stomach disappeared.

"How late am I this time, Professor?" he drawled. "Twenty-three seconds? Thirty-seven seconds?"

"Take your seat!" Professor Lancaster snapped, now an obvious shade of scarlet.

Sirius took his seat. James slid into the chair beside Sirius and gave his the thumbs-up. Professor Lancaster, meanwhile, was collecting their essays on the Knockback Jinx. With a wave of his wand, all of their parchments soared into the air and stacked themselves neatly on his desk.

"Now!" barked the professor. He was slapping his wand into the palm of his opposite hand, as if preparing to beat someone with it. "The end of term draws to a close, and as you know, I will be leaving Hogwarts at that time."

"Excellent!" Sirius whispered audibly to Peter, who was sitting behind him.

"Silence, Black!" hissed Professor Lancaster. "Another five points from Gryffindor!"

"Bollocks!" Sirius yelled.

"Ten points from Gryffindor!" Professor Lancaster shouted, his grip tightening on his wand. For a moment, they both just stared at each other, daring the other to reply. A tense silence filled the room. James started slow-clapping.

Martin Lancaster, who was seated in front of James, turned around and glared daggers at him; the clapping slowly ceased. For another minute, no one spoke. Finally, the professor sighed and straightened back up again.

"Another teacher will replace me as soon as I am dispatched-" His face turned slightly green as he said this. He swallowed quickly. "I mean, of course, when I depart. And I am happy to say that this new teacher will not tolerate this kind of behaviour as well as I did."

Sirius leaned back in his chair. "In other words, not well at all!"

Professor Lancaster started forward again, with an expression so livid Sirius thought he was going to get a smack across the face, but nothing happened. Lancaster was practically boiling.

"Don't tempt me, Black," murmured the professor. Now his face was twisting into a cruel sort of grin. "We must have respect for our betters, must we?"

"Yes, we must!" Sirius said mockingly, nodding so fast he thought his neck was going to break. He blinked up innocently at Professor Lancaster. James snorted loudly into his hands.

 

 

"Well, about time, isn't it?" Sirius asked them all as they left the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. "I can't wait until he leaves - we should throw a party."

"Just make sure Martin isn't invited, eh?" said Peter loudly, elbowing his friends in the ribs. His plump face was red from laughing. "And we don't want any gate-crashers, do we?"

James grinned at them both. "Nah, Lancaster doesn't need to be invited - he'd be the pinata!"

"I call hitting him first!" Sirius chortled, waving his hand in the air and almost smacking Remus in the face.

Remus dodged his flailing arm. "Yes, but I doubt you'd want to eat whatever comes out, though," he pointed out. "Unless you like that sort of thing."

Peter frowned over at him. "Come off it, Remus. Aren't you glad Professor Lancaster's leaving?"

Remus snorted. "Of course I'm glad. But there's still Martin to deal with…" He glanced furtively around him. "And did you hear what he said: 'Another teacher will replace me as soon as I am dispatched' - then he stopped like he had said something he shouldn't have! What do you think he meant?"

"I think it's pretty obvious mate," James said, shrugging. "Lancaster's leaving, that's all."

"Don't you know what 'dispatched' means?" Remus hissed. "It doesn't mean Professor Lancaster's leaving, it means he's being sent somewhere - for a reason… maybe to deal with something…"

"Look who's in an Agatha Christie novel now," smirked Peter.

"Shut up," Remus muttered, rolling his eyes. "This is serious-"

"I'll be the judge of that," announced Sirius, squashing himself between the two of them. He turned towards Remus with a more solemn air. His mind was moving faster now; he was starting to see what Remus was seeing. "Being sent somewhere, eh? Who in their right mind would send Professor Lancaster to do something for them?"

Remus sighed. "That's just it. I have no idea." His comment hung above their heads as they ascended one of the moving staircases towards their dormitory. They had time for a break before dinner, but for now they could head up to dormitory and hopefully try to-

"I'VE GOT IT!" James shouted suddenly, stopping dead in his tracks. They all slammed into him; Sirius grabbed Remus around the neck like some fairytale damsel in distress, while Peter nearly tumbled over the railing into the void below.

"Holy-" Peter gulped. "James, a warning next time would be appreciated!"

"Please get off me," said Remus, refusing to look anywhere else but the ceiling.

Sirius grinned broadly and returned his hands to his own pockets. "Well, James? What's eating you?"

James whirled around, the expression on his face so insane even Sirius was worried. "I know who's sending Professor Lancaster somewhere… Dumbledore!"

"Dumbledore?" asked Peter, frowning. "Why would Dumbledore do that? I can imagine he doesn't like Lancaster much either…"

"It doesn't matter, does it, as long as he's effective," James said, grasping Sirius and Remus about the elbows as he dragged them along; Peter had to jog to keep up. "Listen: who else has the authority to tell Lancaster what to do? Lancaster wouldn't listen to anyone else - and, remember what you said Sirius?"

Sirius was still trying to catch up. "I always remember what I say," he said pointedly. "But, for the sake of everyone else, please, enlighten me."

Remus rolled his eyes, but James barely noticed. "You said, 'Who in their right mind would send Professor Lancaster to do something for them?' Dumbledore isn't exactly in his right mind, is he?"

"Come off it," Remus groaned as they left the staircase behind and marched into an empty corridor - on one end was a shortcut to the Great Hall, and on the other was a blank stretch of wall decorated with a simple tapestry of a bearded lady.

Remus continued, obviously annoyed. "You've seen Dumbledore go into the Forbidden Forest once, that hardly proves anythin-!"

He hadn't gotten to finish his sentence. Someone had just entered the corridor. A tall, bearded, crooked-nosed someone. James had slapped a hand over Remus's mouth and had dragged him behind one of the pillars on either side of the doorway. Sirius and Peter had quickly followed suit. They peered out from behind it, only to see Dumbledore striding toward the tapestry, clad in his usual robes, but instead of wearing shoes, he only wore red woolen socks.

Sirius stared at them. "Blimey," was all he could say.

Remus yanked James's hand away from his mouth. "I stand corrected," he mumbled.

"Shut up!" James hissed at them both. "I'm trying to watch!"

They watched silently as Dumbledore approached the tapestry. The bearded lady looked him up and down, a tiresome look on her face.

"At it again, are we?" she asked, barely restraining a yawn. Sirius nearly stumbled backwards into Peter: the lady had a startlingly masculine voice.

"Perhaps," Dumbledore replied mysteriously, twiddling his thumbs. "Thaumatrope!"

"Very well," the lady sighed, and she rolled aside, revealing a triangular passage that contained stairs descending into an ominous darkness. Dumbledore cheerfully thanked the bearded lady and, lighting his wand, made his way down the stairs. The tapestry rolled back into its original place.

"C'mon!" James whispered, immediately jumping out from his hiding spot. Together, they rushed towards the tapestry.

"Thaumatrope!" yelled James. The bearded lady turned her beady eyes on him.

"And who are you, boy?" she grumbled.

"I'm James Potter!" he yelled again. "Thaumatrope!"

"Humph," the lady mumbled, clearly unimpressed.

Remus stepped forward. "But that's what Dumbledore said before, and you let him in. Why won't you let us in?"

The bearded lady sniffed. "Because, boy. I have strict orders not to let any down this passage besides the headmaster himself."

"Are you sure?" Peter asked tentatively.

"Yes!" the bearded lady said again with an air of finality. "Now off with you!"

But they didn't move. James groaned. "Sod it." He approached the tapestry and attempted to yank it aside; nothing happened. James pulled again, and it didn't budge. He pushed and shoved and kicked, but no matter how hard he did, the tapestry would not even move. It was like it had decided to turn into metal.

James paused, gasping for breath. His face was scarlet and he was panting like he had just run a marathon. "How-?" he wheezed. The bearded lady just smirked down at him.

For a moment, they both stared at each other. Then suddenly, Sirius stepped forwards. He didn't know what to say - what could possibly convince this bearded hag to let them through this passage. Immediately, we went towards his emergency strategy: ignoring his brain and giving complete control to his mouth.

"Um…" His mind raced. Flattery seemed to work sometimes. Why couldn't he try that? "So… I haven't seen your tapestry before! Why are you hung all the way back here in this peripheral corridor?"

The bearded lady snorted. "As if I know! Dumbledore said he hung me over this passage because I could be trusted. I've kept his darkest secrets, I have. Been here ever since his first year at Hogwarts!"

Sirius frowned. "But of all places-! Here, in this empty corridor?" He made sure to gasp hugely. "Dumbledore should've hung you in the Great Hall, where all of Hogwarts could gaze upon your beauty!"

Sirius wasn't sure, but he thought he saw the bearded lady blush, which was even uglier than seeing her smile. For a second, he floundered, unsure of what to say next staring at her repulsive warty face. Suddenly, he felt a elbow jab him hard in the ribs; Remus was nudging his head pointedly in the direction of the bearded lady. His expression was vague, but it was clear what Remus wanted him to do.

Sirius cleared his throat and directed his gaze towards the floor, pretending to be bashful. "Of course, we all know Dumbledore had his reasons… perhaps we knew that we would meet!"

The bearded lady perked up. Sirius cringed and continued. "Maybe… we could see more of each other?"

To his horror, she squealed with delight. "Yes, yes!" she replied, cackling and clapping her hands.

Sirius grinned, but to him, it felt more like a grimace. He heard Peter sidle up beside him.

"Sorry mate, how old is she, and how old are you?" Peter hissed.

"That doesn't matter right now," whispered James, sidling up on the other side of Sirius. "Make her move aside!"

"Fine!" Sirius snapped. He turned back to the tapestry. "Listen… um…"

"Matilda," she said with a wink.

"Excellent," groaned James. "I think I have a cousin named Matilda."

Sirius forced his mouth into what he thought was a winning smile. "Matilda. How lovely. Could we pass please?"

For a moment, Sirius thought he had won. But the bearded lady's grin immediately melted back into a scowl. "I can't let you pass! I have orders!" she insisted, crossing her arms.

James rolled his eyes. Peter hurried forwards. "But we have to pass! Dumbledore will be wondering where we've got to!"

Matilda raised an eyebrow. She looked very suspicious, but Sirius thought Peter was getting somewhere. "Um… yes!" he said loudly. "Professor!" he yelled, waving his arms wildly. "Professor, you forgot about us!" He smiled at the bearded lady apologetically. "He's always had a short-term memory, hasn't he?"

"He was bringing us to where we were serving our detentions," blurted out Remus. "We, er, got in trouble, and Professor Dumbledore wanted us to do something in that… um, passage."

Matilda pondered this for a minute. Sweat broke out along Sirius's hairline. What if she didn't accept their story?

But they were in luck. Matilda nodded slowly and moved aside, revealing the tunnel-like passage. "Very well - but return quickly!" She winked again at Sirius, who had to bite his tongue to stop himself from gagging. "I do like me a troublemaker."

"Mm," was all Sirius could say at that point, and sprinted into the tunnel like his life depended on it. James, Peter and Remus hastily followed.

"Bloody Hell," gasped Peter when the tapestry fallen again. "I think she fancies you, Sirius!"

Sirius gagged in response.

"C'mon!" James insisted, dragging them along. They raced down the passage, their footsteps echoing along the uneven stone floor. As they ran, Sirius noticed that the further they went, the earthier the walls got, and at one point Sirius swore he saw root-like tendrils tracing the edges of the floor.

Suddenly, James, who was in front, came to an abrupt halt. Predictably, they all slammed into each other.

"What's wrong?" Peter panted, clutching the stitch in his chest.

James pointed. A door stood in front of him, tall but thin, with a thick round handle that looked like gold.

"You reckon it's locked?" he asked them.

Remus stepped forwards and tugged at the handle. It swung open, creaking loudly at its hinges. A few feet from the door sat an ancient wooden ladder, leading up to who-knows-where. They all stared at it.

"No," Remus said. "Shall we?"

And they began to climb. It was a fairly short and stout ladder, and soon they had come to a halt again.

"What's wrong now?" shouted Peter from the bottom of the ladder.

"There something here!" Remus yelled. "A hatch or something… hold on, let me try to get it open…" There was sound of wood scratching against metal, then the whoosh! of something opening suddenly. Sirius gasped as he felt a stiff cold breeze ruffle his hair.

"Bloody…" He heard Remus swallow. "Lads, you'd better get up here…"

Sirius scrambled up the ladder, now seeing an wide square opening. Remus had flung open a trapdoor of some kind. Sirius climbed towards it.

"Ow!" came James's muffled voice. "Sirius, that was your foot in my face-!"

Sirius hoisted himself up out of the tunnel, only to land very uncomfortably on a tree root.

"Ouch!"

A tree root…?

Quickly, he stumbled to his feet. They were surrounded by trees, thick ones with twisted roots and weighted branches. Vines seemed to choke them, and different coloured leaves and mosses covered the ground where Sirius stood.

"What the…?" He stared around in awe. "Where are we?"

"The Forbidden Forest, I reckon," said James; he and Peter had made it out of the tunnel. James came to stand beside Sirius. "Spooky, ain't it?"

"It's unnatural," squeaked Peter, wringing his hands.

Sirius frowned and looked up where the sky should be, but all he saw was a leafy ceiling. "Now what's Dumbledore doing in a place like this?" he wondered aloud.

"What's Dumbledore doing with a passage like this?" James corrected him. "We've already seen him go into the Forbidden Forest. Apparently now he wants to do it when no one's watching!"

"What for?" Sirius and Peter asked at the same time.

Remus scowled at the three of them. "We shouldn't be here," he said. "What if someone sees us?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "No one will see us here, Remus! This place is forbidden!"

As if on cue, some brush stirred. Footsteps could be heard: someone was making their way towards them. The sound of heavy breathing broke the silence.

They didn't even have to say anything. Sirius shot them all a fleeting look and they dove for the trapdoor all at once. Sliding down the ladder, Sirius felt like his heart was in his mouth, beating fast, then faster -

James yanked the trapdoor shut and slid down after them. As soon as his feet touched the ground, they were off. They sprinted down the tunnel in a tight line, panting and kicking up dirt.

"You see?" puffed James in the back of the group. "You see? He knows, he knows we're onto him!"

"Shut up!" demanded Remus, who had pulled ahead to the front of the line. "That trapdoor had a lock - you didn't lock it, did you?"

Sirius couldn't see James's face, but he could imagine it turning red. "No."

"Brilliant," Sirius heard Remus mutter.

They tore through the passage, fists clenched and hearts pumping. Soon, the earthen floor beneath their feet slowly began to turn into stone. Relief flooded through Sirius. They were almost there…!

The tapestry was finally in sight. Sweeping aside the tapestry, they dove out of the passage, eyes wide and chests heaving.

"Dumbledore!" panted James. "How long do you think it'll take him to get back here?"

"We don't know that it was Dumbledore!" said Remus, who didn't even look winded. He was crossing his arms and glaring at them. "That could've been anyone, we don't know-"

"Who else could that have been?" asked Peter, who was on the floor and gasping for breath.

"I agree with Pete," said Sirius, exhaling deeply through his nose. "It had to be Dumbledore - he knows we're onto him! Now we just need to set a trap or something…"

"Set a trap?" Remus snorted. "That awfully medieval, even for you-"

"Medieval?" asked Sirius, insulted. Since when had he been medieval? "Listen, I don't have to-"

"What are you doing?" asked an accusatory sort of voice. Instantly, Sirius froze. Then, ever so slowly, he turned his head. Snivellus Snape stood there, hunched over and spider-like. His greasy hair hung over his eyes, but Sirius could tell that he was gazing suspiciously at them.

"Nothing!" said Remus and Peter at the same time.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "What's it to you, Snivellus?"

James jumped forward. "What have you been doing Snivelly? Confund anyone else's brooms lately?"

Snape turned a delicate shade of green. "What I do is none of your business, Potter," he sneered.

"Well, then, I'd have say the same for us," Sirius shot back desperately. "Wouldn't you?"

Snape's sneer deepened, but he turned away, walking in that odd twitchy way that Sirius hated. As soon as Snape left, Sirius whirled back around to face Remus.

"Medieval?" he protested again.

"Lads," said Peter, who was still lying on the floor. "Please shut up."

 

 

They was no telling whether or not Snape would say anything about what he saw that afternoon, so Sirius found himself inwardly panicking whenever a teacher approached him. Thankfully, nothing of the sort happened. Snape seemed to be holding his tongue, though out of fear or out of sheer stubbornness Sirius couldn't tell. Sirius did catch Snape throwing him covert glances over his shoulder during breakfast.

"What do you think?" Sirius asked James, who was sitting opposite him. He jerked his head in the direction of Snape. "You reckon he'll tell?"

James, who was decked in red and gold for the afternoon Quidditch match, shook his head. "Nah. What would he say anyways?"

Sirius frowned. "Um, that he saw us running out of a hidden passageway and that he heard us talking about setting a trap for Dumbledore?"

James shrugged and took a swig of pumpkin juice. "Yeah, but who'd believe him? I wouldn't."

"Yeah, but you're not McGonagall," said someone suddenly to James's right; Sirius glanced up. Peter seated himself besides James and pulled some toast with kipper towards him.

"Quidditch match today? Who're we up against?"

James sniffed. "Slytherin."

Peter raised an eyebrow. "Are they any good?"

"Probably not. Lousy gits."

As their conversation ensued, Sirius found himself less and less interested. He wondered what Dumbledore was doing now… was he in his office, roaming the school, or strolling about doing who-knows-what in the Forbidden Forest?

"By the way." Peter's voice jerked Sirius back to reality. "Have you seen Remus? I haven't seen him all morning."

James nearly dropped his goblet of pumpkin juice. "I thought he was with you!" He sounded so concerned Sirius was almost jealous.

"I-I thought he was with you!" Peter choked on his kipper.

"Well, I'm sorry if I confused you," said Remus, who had just walked up beside the table. He took a seat next to Sirius. "I just went for a quick walk around the grounds." Sirius saw Remus stare at the table for a second, then said quietly, "I'm sorry for calling you medieval."

Sirius opened his mouth to respond, probably to say something rash or meaningless, but before words could tumble out, he shut it. Remus struck him as a sensitive sort - the most likely scenario was that he wasn't thinking when he called Sirius that. Thinking it over now, Sirius didn't really know why he took offense at being called that.

So he just shrugged, patted his friend on the back, and took a huge swig of pumpkin juice. "Let's go watch us cream Slytherin, shall we?"

 

 

"WHAT?" yelled James as the Slytherin team strode out onto the field. "Why is HE playing?"

"He plays Chaser on the Slytherin Quidditch team. Didn't I tell you?" Remus sounded innocently puzzled, but Sirius saw a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Jude Darcy smiled up at the crowd, his white teeth glinting. Gaily, he waved. Screaming and shrieking, more than half of the girls waved back frantically. James groaned.

Peter stared up at the commentator's box, squinting into the white winter sunlight. "Who's commentating today, then?"

Sirius looked up and saw a flash of blonde hair, and for one wild, hopeful second he thought it was Celia St. Claire, but after glimpsing a red and gold rosette on the commentator's coat, he realised that it in fact it was not Celia St. Claire, but instead Marlene McKinnon.

"And now the Gryffindor team walks onto the field, led by Captain Almon Ayres-"

"Almon?" Sirius snorted. "Can I call him Almond now?"

"They're looking pretty sullen today, I would look that way too, I guess, if I'd played that awfully in the last match-"

Peter stared disbelievingly in the direction of the commentator's box. Marlene McKinnon continued to ramble about how badly the Gryffindor Quidditch team played last time, how horrible Oloughlin's hairstyle was, and how absolutely gorgeous Jude Darcy looked.

"Oh, shut up," James muttered, clamping his hands tightly over his ears. McGonagall, who was standing beside Marlene, looked like she was thinking the same thing.

"But here comes Madam Hooch, with that big old crate they keep the balls in - Ayres and Eberly shaking hands -"

Sirius watched as the Gryffindor and Slytherin Chasers formed a tight ring above Madam Hooch's head. In flash, she'd released the Snitch and the Bludgers, and with a casual fling of her arm, she tossed the Quaffle into the air.

"And the Quaffle is immediately seized by Eberly, bloody hell, that bugger is fast-"

"'Bloody hell, that bugger is fast.'" Sirius imitated her in his squeakiest voice. "Blimey, get to the important stuff, will you?"

Remus, meanwhile, was smiling over at the commentator's box. "Oh, I don't know," he said good-naturedly. "I rather like her."

"WHAT?" yelled Sirius and James at the same time.

"And now Remus Lupin is looking at me, I don't know why, maybe Lily knows - LILY!" she screamed into the microphone, causing the audience to groan and cover their ears. Lily, who was sitting nearby with a few of her friends, had her face in her hands. Still, Sirius could hear her laughing.

Despite the distraction Marlene was causing, the Quidditch players had managed to stay focused. Celestia Freestone had stolen the Quaffle from Eberly and was now zooming towards the Gryffindor goal.

"There goes Celestia, past Jovi and Battour - are they twins are something? They look really alike… nevermind, they can't be, they have different last names - now only the Keeper, Calden, stands between Celestia and those whatsits at the end of the field-"

"They're the goalposts!" shouted McGonagall into the microphone, her hat slightly askew.

"I still think they look like bubble wands," complained Marlene quietly. Then she cheered. "Celestia scores. Ten-zero to Gryffindor!"

"What the ruddy hell is a bubble wand?" grumbled James.

"I'll tell you later, shall I?" Peter said, clapping with the others as Gryffindor resumed position.

 

 

James, it seemed, wouldn't have survived Marlene's unique commentary unless Gryffindor had won. Thankfully, they had, and all the Gryffindors waded their way through the newly fallen snow back towards the castle for a party.

"You know, I'm beginning to really hate snow," remarked Remus as they reached the castle doors.

"You know, I'm beginning to think snow really likes you," replied Sirius, grinning. "How many times did you fall on your face?"

"Shut up," Remus retorted, who had snow clinging to his eyebrows.

Shivering but laughing, they headed upstairs to the Gryffindor Common Room. But they had barely finished climbing the first staircase before they ran into Filch, Hogwarts' caretaker.

"Damn," James said quietly. Filch squinted at the accusingly, and his faithful cat, Mrs. Norris, seemed to do the same. Sirius had never considered it before, but he realized just then how similar they looked.

"Hullo, Mr. Filch!" said Remus cheerfully. Sirius wondered how he got his face to look so innocent. "What can we do for you?"

Filch snorted like there was something nasty lodged in his nose. Mrs. Norris simply stared up at them with her huge yellow eyes.

"Professor McGonagall has sent me to fetch you," Filch said in a low, but somehow gleeful voice. "I reckon someone's been doing something they shouldn't have."

Remus gasped. It sounded so fake it took all of Sirius's willpower not to laugh. "Really, Mr. Filch? That's just… terrible." He started shaking his head like someone had died. "Terrible."

"Terrible," echoed Peter.

"Just awful," muttered James, smirking.

"Lovely," burst out Sirius, and they all busted out laughing. It seemed as if Gryffindor's Quidditch victory had flooded them all with a sort of extreme euphoria. Filch stared at them all like they'd gone mad. Perhaps they had. Sirius had never seen Remus laugh this hard.

Suddenly, a tall figure appeared beside Filch, wearing a pointed hat, square spectacles, and a frown. They ceased laughing at once.

McGonagall gazed at them. Sirius wished her face was easier to read. "Come with me," she said stiffly.

She led the way, down up one staircase, up another. They followed in silence. It was the tensest silence Sirius had ever experienced, except for that one time Sirius's mother nearly drowned him in the sink.

They had arrived at a door. "In," McGonagall commanded them. They went in. It was quite a small room, but it had long windows and a large fireplace.

McGonagall motioned for them to sit down. They sat. She did too, in the large red armchair behind her desk. She looked quite intimidating.

"Now," she said, folding her hands together. "Severus Snape has come to me with an interesting story."

None of them moved. Sirius locked his eyes on a spot on the wall exactly three inches above McGonagall's head. Here it comes…

"He said," McGonagall continued. "That he saw the four of you standing in the East Hall outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom on Tuesday, is that correct?"

"Yes," James said brazenly. McGonagall arched an eyebrow at him. Sirius bit his tongue.

"Snape also said that you four were discussing something… something that involved, in Snape's words… "setting a trap?" Her eyes narrowed.

Sirius could hear Peter's breathing quicken. Remus let out an almost-audible sigh.

McGonagall didn't even need to hear them reply. "I see," she said shortly, removing her spectacles and setting them delicately on her desk. "Snape then approached you and asked what you were doing, correct?"

"Yes," Peter puffed. "But-"

"And then, Snape said, you proceeded to assault him both verbally…." Her eyebrows practically disappeared in the shadow of her hat. "And physically."

It was at this point Sirius could take it no longer. He exploded.

"WHAT?" he yelled. "We didn't do anything, anything at all-!"

"Snape told me you threatened him," McGonagall said simply, but her gaze was fierce . "He said you would hex him if he told anyone about your antics-"

"What proof does he have?" demanded James, striding forward to the edge of McGonagall's desk.

"I have his word," McGonagall said strictly, standing up from her chair. "And several others have come forward with similar instances-"

"Several others?" asked Remus. He looked bewildered. "But it's only happened once-"

"So it did happen?" McGonagall inquired.

Peter floundered. "Well… sort of-"

"I'm sorry!" McGonagall finally said, holding up one hand. "There is far too much evidence stacked up against you - that's my final word, Mr. Black!" she said threateningly, when Sirius opened his mouth. "Detentions for a week, all of you! How long will it take you to realise this kind of behaviour will not be tolerated at Hogwarts!" She glared at them all for a moment, then promptly shooed them out of her office. Sirius saw Peter wince as the door slammed.

It was silent for a minute. Eventually, James spoke.

"Well, blimey," he whispered.

"I don't get it!" said Sirius angrily. He kicked the office door in frustration. "Snape was bound to tell, he's a whiny, namby-pamby pantywaist - but 'several others?' Who the ruddy hell could that be?"

"I think I know," said James after a moment. "The Slytherin Quidditch team."

"The Slytherin Quidditch - what?" asked Peter disbelievingly. He scoffed. "How?"

James shrugged. "Easy. Snape fits right in among the other Slytherin blokes, right? They all hate us Gryffindors. And after losing that Quidditch match - all they wanted was revenge, wasn't it?"

"Beating us and berating us wasn't enough for them, eh?" murmured Remus.

"Oh, they'll beat and berate us, you can count on that," said Sirius. "We just need to know when they'll strike…"


	12. Lily

For the next few weeks, Remus found himself looking over his shoulder more than usual. James's suspicions about the Slytherin team wanting revenge seemed to be correct; every time they turned, Slytherins were standing there, arms crossed, either scowling or chuckling. They made Remus nervous. Sirius commented often that he thought they looked like doltish apes.

Other than the constant feeling of an overhanging threat, January passed into February silently. Snow was still falling, more thickly than ever, but Hogwarts was no longer bedecked in its fabulous and famous holiday decorations. Hagrid had removed the towering Christmas trees from the Great Hall long ago, though in the Charms classroom, Flitwick had refused to remove his Christmas lights, which were actually real fairies that twinkled in the dim light.

Snape, like the Slytherin Quidditch team, was flushed with success. He seemed to gloat whenever James or Sirius was around, which made James absolutely furious. One day, after a particularly tedious History of Magic lesson, James and Sirius finally snapped. Perhaps the boringness of the class had gotten to them or maybe they were inspired by the heroic goblin rebellion led by Elfric the Eager. Remus thought not. They rarely paid attention.

Sirius struck first. "Oy, Snivelly!" he shouted across the hall; Snape and Lily were standing there. Snape turned, not quickly, but slowly instead, so that Sirius had enough time to pull out his wand and shoot three hexes at Snape's overlarge nose. Sirius, being angry as he was, misshot. They hit the wall above Snape's head instead.

Snape smiled sardonically. James growled and pulled out his wand.

"I hope you have better aim than Black, Potter!" sneered Snape.

"Tarantallegra!" screamed James.

This time, Snape dove out of the way. The spell hit a mirror that was hanging on the wall behind him, and it promptly shattered. Lily shrieked.

"Stop it!" Lily and Remus yelled at the same time. Ignoring them, Snape got to his feet, snarling like some kind of animal. Remus had a sudden unpleasant memory of the full moon last month.

"Why don't you fight me on your own, Potter?" Snape shouted. "Or Black, perhaps? Or are you too scared to fight fairly?"

Sirius laughed, a harsh sound like a bark. "Just admit you're frightened, Snivelly. Even against one of us, you're outmatched ten to one. Stupefy!" he yelled suddenly, lunging at Snape, brandishing his wand like a sword. The spell hit Snape full in the face. He flew backwards, hit the opposite wall, and crumpled. His unconscious form lay still on the floor.

Lily, for a moment, was speechless. "You prats, what did you do?" she finally screamed, striding towards James and Sirius with a furious look on her face. Even though she was about a head shorter than both of them, her expression was perhaps the scariest thing Remus had ever seen. He couldn't help retreating a few steps.

"Ah," said Sirius, who had put away his wand. He stared down at Lily. "That was the charm, 'Stupefy,' that I happened to pick up while dear cousin Bellatrix was visiting." He shook his head and sighed reminiscently, like he was recalling a pleasant memory. "We never did get along."

Lily's eyes narrowed. "Shut up!" she shouted. James's eyebrows jumped a bit, but Sirius just yawned. "What is it, Ginger? Didn't like what I did to your pompous greasy friend?"

"He isn't pompous, and he isn't greasy!" Lily cried.

James snorted. "I beg to differ."

"You're pompous!" Lily yelled, standing up on her tiptoes.

"At least I'm not greasy," James shot back.

It was at this point when Remus decided that he should come forward. "All right girls, stop fighting," he said, resisting the urge to smile.

Sirius chuckled, James scoffed. Lily made a very loud huffing noise and turned away, but as she bent down to retrieve some of her books that had fallen out of her arms, she muttered quite audibly, "Prick."

"OI!" shouted James, leaping towards her.

Sirius grabbed the end of his robes. "Easy, mate. Even I've called you worse things than that." However, he glared down at Lily with a haughty expression that seemed to appear more often than not on Sirius's face. "C'mon. Ginger's not worth it."

And with that, they stalked off, James still fuming. Lily watched them go, her face almost as red as her hair. She looked so furious Remus wanted to run away and hide behind a tapestry somewhere, but he steeled himself and took a step forward. "Lily?"

She exploded. "Why do you hang out with those gits?" she yelled.

Thankfully, Remus had expected this. "They're not gits," he told her rather firmly, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Yes, they are!" She huffed again, blowing a long scarlet strand of hair out of her face. "They're bullies, cowards, idiots-"

"I'd have to agree with you there," Remus interrupted calmly, his hands still in his pockets. Lily stared at him, not with surprise, but with suspicion. Her eyes narrowed.

"You agree…?"

"Of course I do," he said promptly, ducking down to grab the last textbook that had fallen. "Although I have to disagree on your points of then being bullies and cowards, but otherwise yes, we're all idiots."

A warm feeling grew in his stomach as he saw her smile.

"Why don't I take some of those for you?" he offered, easing some books from under her arm. There had to be at least ten or so.

"Thanks," muttered Lily, who was re-adjusting her bag on her shoulder. "You know, I quite agree."

Remus, who was rifling through one of the textbooks, didn't glance up. "Mm? With what?"

"You're all idiots," she said matter-of-factly. "But you're a friendly idiot, so do you want to come to the library with me and Mary?"

"Mary?" he asked, both startled and confused. Lily's invitation took him by surprise.

Mary flounced over: a dark girl with even darker eyes and lots of brown hair in ringlets. She was small, even smaller than Lily, and was wearing a little gold pendant in the shape of a heart.

"This is Mary," said Lily, beaming. "Mary MacDonald."

"Pleasure," said Remus, shaking her hand.

They set off for the library. Out of the three of them, Lily talked the most. She spoke about classes, (her favourite was Charms), Lancaster, (unsurprisingly, she hated him), and Snivellus… er, Severus Snape.

"What's Severus like?" Remus said suddenly. Lily stopped in her tracks, that suspicious glare returning once more to her face. That was bound to happen, Remus knew. Lily would think that he hated Severus.

He quickly rephrased. "No, not like that!" he said hastily. Beside Lily, Mary raised an eyebrow. Remus bit his lip. He wasn't quite sure why he was asking this. Maybe it was out of curiousity - no. He wanted to know why Severus despised James so much. "Er… when did you meet Severus?"

Lily relaxed. "Before Hogwarts. He was my first friend. He told me all about magic."

"Oh?" Remus did his best to imagine Severus Snape as a kind, caring person. Perhaps he was. But Remus had only seen the worst of Snape, and he had absolutely no idea where that kind, caring Snape went, or if he even existed.

"Yeah. He-" She read his expression too quickly. "He's not always like that." She scowled and quickened her stride as if to get away from him as fast as possible. Mary immediately followed suit. Remus, whose legs were longer than both of theirs', had to jog to catch up.

"No, Lily! I didn't -"

"He's gentle, Remus!" Lily said, her scowl softening just a bit when she spoke. "He's sweet and caring…"

She slowed down while her voice faded. Remus sidled up beside her. "You know Lily… some people can… well, they act differently…"

He could that she saw him frowning, because her scowl deepened even further (if possible). "It's those friends of yours!" she finally burst out. "Potter… and Black! They bring out the worst in Severus!"

"Sorry?" Remus didn't have to pretend to be shocked.

"It is sort of true," said Mary, who hadn't spoken until that moment. "It's like they've been arch enemies for years now-"

"They're not arch enemies," muttered Lily, rolling her eyes. They had reached the door of the library. Pushing it open, Lily said, "Potter and Black are just bullies, that's all! Sometimes I just hate them-!"

"Now, now," said Remus, grinning a little. "I thought we already established this. James and Sirius aren't bullies. They're just idiots."

Lily rolled her eyes again, but Mary snorted loudly into her hands.

 

 

"I'll get back at them, I swear."

It was hard to believe that James was still furious about the Snape-Lily incident days after it occurred. He fumed from dawn until dusk, and Peter said he heard James vowing revenge in his sleep. Peter, in short, was very worried.

Sirius, on the other hand, thought the whole matter was casual and simple.

"It's all very normal," he said through a mouthful of Chocolate Frog. "He's naturally competitive."

Whether Sirius was right or not, Remus knew this to be true, James being competitive. He wondered, if ever, the constant revenge - vowing would ever stop. It had been going on for at least a week.

"They won't see me coming, I'll tell you that," James declared one evening during supper, slamming his fist down on the table and upsetting Peter's bowl of stew. There was a manic glint in James's eye. Remus suddenly feared that James meant it this time.

Peter looked down sadly at his stew slopped all over the table. "That's all very well and good mate, but… um-"

"Whaddya gonna do?" interrupted Sirius, shoving a handful of crisps into his mouth. "Efya guman duzumnethin, erm werna-"

James frowned. "Sorry?"

Remus tapped Sirius's shoulder. "Chew, swallow, then speak. If you please."

Sirius swallowed hugely. "I said-"

At that moment, Lily chose to walk past. She seemed determined not to look at James or Sirius: she had her eyes fixed on the wall and she wasn't blinking. Expressionless, she strolled past.

Instantly, James stood up. "Hey, EVANS!" he screamed.

Lily whipped around. "What do you want?" she said, her voice dangerously low.

James leaned forwards. "Shouldn't have called me a prick, Evans," he sneered. "Something much worse is headed your way."

Lily pretended to gasp. "Something worse than you, Potter? Heaven knows there's such a thing." And with that, she stalked off, her hair trailing out behind her like a thick red curtain. James watched her go, and a ferocious scowl appeared on his face. Sirius turned towards Lily and started applauding.

Remus felt his own eyes follow Lily as she walked, faster and faster to avoid embarrassment. Finally, she reached the double oaken doors of the Great Hall. Shoving one open, she disappeared.

Something tugged in the pit of Remus's stomach. "Excuse me," he muttered, and ran after her. He could feel eyes fall on him as he raced after Lily; in no time, he reached the doors leading out of the Great Hall. He threw them open.

"Lily?"

There she was, sitting on the bottom of a set of stairs. Her arms were crossed and she was scowling again, but this time, tears were streaming down her face like little rivers. She glanced up at him when he spoke, and hastily tried to cover her face.

"Oh, Lily," Remus muttered, walking over the sit beside her. "I'm sorry…"

Lily made an odd, gurgling noise in the back of her throat, like she was trying to hold back even more tears. "They're toerags," she said in a hollow voice. "They're arrogant, bullying toerags…"

Remus sighed, running his hand through his hair. There was nothing else he could say, no other excuses he could make. "I'd have to agree with you there," he sighed. He felt his face turning red. He was embarrassed that he had admitted that two of his best friends were stuck-up bullies, but at that point, he felt like he had no other choice.

"Why do they hate me so much?" moaned Lily, not bothering to hide her tears now. They slid rapidly down her face.

"They don't hate you!" said Remus, in a last desperate effort to defend his friends. "They...well, they don't like Snape, I guess, and you two… well…" He glanced over at Lily; a very ugly look had appeared on her face.

"It shouldn't bother me," Lily muttered, almost to herself, wiping her eyes furiously.

Remus watched her, a feeling of helplessness growing slowly in the pit of his stomach. He had known that James and Sirius were bullying Lily-

It's not bullying, his brain argued.

What was it, then? Mere teasing? Pranks? He felt absolutely terrible. Terrible and blind.

He took a deep breath. "I'll make them apologise," he assured her.

"Don't make them apologise," she grumbled, crossing her arms.

"Wouldn't that make you feel better?" Remus asked, taken aback a little.

"Yes," she said, with an air of finality. "Now go away."

And Remus went, feeling sad and confused.

 

 

Remus knew what he had to do, but it bothered him, openly accusing the only friends he ever had. In fact, he barely spoke all morning; whenever he opened his mouth, he quickly bit his tongue or shoved his face into a spellbook. It wasn't until Potions class that Remus thought he had finally summoned the courage to face his friends.

It was going to be easy, Remus had convinced himself of it. Together, he, Peter, James and Sirius sat down at their regular tables. Remus took a deep breath.

"Um, lads-?"

"What should we do today, mate?" Sirius asked James loudly, pushing back his chair and planting his feet on the table. "Overturn Snape's cauldron?" Remus saw Sirius eye Lily as she strode into the room. "Turn Evans into a pickle?"

James pretended to look thoughtful. "Hm, well, I dunno, Sirius. Would the pickle still be ginger?"

Remus couldn't stand it. He stuffed his face into One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi and screamed.

James stared at him. "Blimey. Potions that stressful for you, mate?"

Sirius tore the book from Remus's grasp. "Or maybe," he teased, glancing down into the open book, "Remus is trying to turn himself into a… a…." He squinted down at the page. "A moss-filled mushroom."

Remus groaned.

Sirius looked up at Remus and raised an eyebrow. "You know, the image really does suit you."

Remus yanked the book away from Sirius. "You really are sardonic, aren't you?"

"Aren't you?" Sirius repeated blankly.

"You know, it's sad how you're both right," muttered Peter, smirking.

And Remus laughed. He forgot what he was doing for a moment. Sadly, James reminded him.

"Hey Evans!" yelled James, standing up on his chair. "You know, me and Sirius were thinking-"

"-that you'd make a decent gherkin!" finished Sirius immediately, standing up on his chair also. "Want to find out?"

Severus, who was sitting next to Lily, immediately leapt up and went for his wand. But it was Remus who struck first.

"Expelliarmus!" he shouted, flourishing his wand. Instantly, James and Sirius's wands shot up out of their hands. Peter caught them and gazed over at Remus, awestruck.

"How-?"

"Standard Book of Spells: Grade One, page 273," Remus said stiffly. "James, Sirius, I'd like a word. Out in the hall. Please."

He said this so dangerously that James and Sirius didn't say a word as they followed Remus out of the classroom. Remus felt himself boiling up. He hadn't been this angry in months.

He figured Sirius would speak up first. He always did.

"When you get bothered, do you always talk like an Oxford professor?"

Bang! It happened and was over in less than a second. Remus watched his own hand flash out and strike Sirius across the face.

A red weal stood out on Sirius's cheekbone. Remus winced when he looked at it, but Sirius didn't even flinch. "You talk like a professor, but you hit like my mother," Remus heard Sirius mumble.

That was the second time Remus had been compared to Sirius's mother. Remus didn't like that.

"Why do you treat Lily like that?" he heard himself almost scream. "She didn't do anything to you!"

"On the contrary," sneered Sirius. He looked very angry. "Hanging around Snivellus and acting like she's better than us-"

"Maybe she is better than you!"

"She acts like she's a bloody princess!"

"I don't care if she acts like the Queen of England! Just stop treating her like she's scum you scraped off the bottom of your boot!"

"You've got-"

"Fine!" James, who had been silent, since that had arrived in the hall, finally spoke. He was very red in the face; he was either very frustrated or very embarrassed. Or both.

"Fine!" James said again, turning even redder. "She's not scum. Happy?"

Remus was honestly startled. He had been expecting more shouting, a punch, maybe a scuffle. Any fight involving Sirius or James would've been like that, and it definitely wouldn't have ended with James agreeing with his opponent. What, with tempers like James and Sirius's…

And mine.

He had almost forgotten his outburst seconds earlier. He had slapped Sirius clean across the face-

James had stepped back in shock, Remus remembered.

"There's no reason to hit him," James said, looking very cross and staring over at Sirius. "We were just teasing-"

"Yeah," added Sirius. "It wasn't even that bad-"

"It was the final straw," insisted Remus bluntly. "For me, um - her. Her. For her."

Sirius smirked at the sight of him. "Aw, Remus. Have you got a crush on ol' Evans?"

Remus felt himself turn scarlet. "No! Why would - no, Sirius. I'm her friend."

James arched an eyebrow at him. "But we're your friends, Remus." He gestured to Sirius, who was trying to look at his reflection in the tiled floor. "I hope you don't hit all your friends like that."

"Or Evans is in for it, because, you know, you're friends," teased Sirius as he examined the weal on his cheek.

Friends. It had taken Remus a while to see it, but it was just then when he realized how loyal James and Sirius were. They had been hit, yelled at, and insulted. But they still called Remus their friend.

Would they still call Remus their friend if they knew what he really was?

Fool. Freak. He'd been called many things, but never a friend.

This was his first real friendship. He would have to tread carefully.

He glanced over at Sirius. "I'm sorry I hit you. Really."

Sirius shrugged. "It's okay. I reckon it won't be the first time."

Remus laughed, but James looked solemn. "So, that's it? No more pranking?"

"I never said that!"

"Oh, thank God."

"Just no more teasing Lily Evans."

"I can cope," admitted Sirius, but James sighed like this was a horrible loss. As a matter of fact, Remus didn't see James smile until later that week, when Sirius hit Snape with a Trip Jinx in the middle of a mud puddle.

But Remus figured it was worth it.

 

 

"Did you hit Sirius Black?"

"No," lied Remus. "He walked into a wall while looking at Celia St. Claire."

"Figures," laughed Lily. She seemed a lot happier. A week had passed, and neither James nor Sirius had said a word to her. They still teased and pranked Severus to their heart's content though; Remus hadn't said anything to them about that. To tell them to stop teasing Snivellus Snape would be to much, Remus had thought. James might die from boredom.

"I don't know how you did it," Lily said, after a moment. "But I want you to know that I really appreciate it."

Remus sighed. "Lily, I'm going to have to be honest with you. You aren't a target. Severus Confunded James's broom. James felt like he needed to get back at him. You just…" He scrambled for the right word. "You just were in the way, so to speak. And to be fair, I don't think James and Sirius really know the difference between bullying and teasing. But they're getting there."

Lily opened her mouth to retort-

"I'm sorry to interrupt your morning philosophy session," grumbled somebody. A messy-haired Marlene McKinnon sidled up beside Lily. "But some of us want to eat breakfast in peace."

"Morning, Marlene," said Remus politely. He noted the bags under her eyes and her generous yawns between bites of porridge. "Sleep well?"

"Ho, ho," said Marlene sarcastically, stirring her porridge so that it looked like just-mixed cement. "You don't look so good yourself, Lupin."

Lily's eyes narrowed. "You know, she's right, Remus. You don't look well at all."

"Really?" Remus did his best to sound surprised, but he knew he looked terrible. The full moon was a week away, and although the wolf had yet to appear in his nightmares, the constant tiredness and headaches had already started to plague him.

"That's odd," he murmured, making sure he was overheard by Marlene and Lily. "I slept fine last night."

Lily looked worried. Too worried, Remus thought. "Maybe you're sick!" With the anxiousness of a nervous mother, she quickly filled his goblet with water and pushed it towards him. "Drink this. Then head straight to the hospital wing after breakfast."

Remus stared down into his goblet. "Lily, I don't need the hospital wing-"

"He doesn't need the hospital wing," interrupted Marlene. "He's just tired. He probably stayed up last night trying to figure out what happened to Paige."

Remus was on guard immediately. "How do you know about that?" he asked, half-angry, half-worried. He felt defenseless without his friends to back him up. Where were they, anyways? Probably painting the Slytherin Common Room pink.

Lily frowned. "Who's Paige?"

"Um… nobody."

Her frown deepened. "You're a terrible liar." She turned to Marlene. "Who's Paige?"

Marlene reached for a muffin and took a bite out of it. "Mm. She's the one who went barmy in the Herbology classroom. How can you not remember?"

Lily took a deep breath, and nodded pointedly. "Oh, I remember. I've been thinking about it a lot, to be honest…" She glanced over at Remus, who was watching them both with a very confused look on his face. "You've been trying to figure out what happened to Paige, too? I didn't know that."

Remus felt his face turn red. "Well, um-"

"Do you think it was just a hex, or a curse? It had to be a curse, right? What else could it have been?"

"Well," said Remus again, a bit louder this time. Lily was a lot more talkative than he realised. "I haven't heard of a spell that does that, have you?"

"No," murmured Lily. "But we're only in first year. It could be Dark Magic."

Marlene choked. "Looked like it."

Remus eyed her. "There's no need to be so insensitive." Marlene muttered an apology; Remus continued. "That's true, Lily. But personally, I think it could be some sort of potion." His mind was racing faster now. He could feel the pieces falling into place. "Remember? Professor Sprout immobilized Paige with 'Petrificus Totalus.' Wouldn't Dark Magic be strong enough to not be affected by such a simple spell?"

Lily nodded, catching on. "But who would ever do something like that? I mean, what if this potion is experimental? I'd bet a thousand Galleons it wasn't approved by the Ministry of Magic!"

Remus didn't answer. He was too deep in thought. It was something Lily said. What if this potion is experimental? Paige had acted mad… no, beastly. Almost rabid. She had definitely not been in her right mind.

Who in their right mind would make something like that?

Lily narrowed her eyes at him from across the table. "It's suspicious, all right," she said suddenly, as if she could read Remus's thoughts. "And it certainly isn't legal." With a freshly restored determined look on her face, she took a swig from her pumpkin juice-filled goblet. "A potion, you say? If we know the ingredients, we'll know more about the potion… right?"

Remus was taken aback a little. "Uh… yeah. Yes, of course."

"Well then, that's settled, isn't it? I'll head to the library right after Transfiguration - I'll have Mary and Dorcas help too - you don't mind, do you?"

"Um, no, not at all."

"You can help too, Marlene."

"Cheers."

 

 

"Evans knows?" exploded James.

"You can't have expected her to ignore it," said Remus stiffly. He was in a worse mood than usual; his head was dully throbbing and his own heartbeat was a roar in his ears. "She was in the same room as us when Paige had her episode."

"Still," muttered Peter.

"Oh, grow up, Peter," snapped Remus. "She wants to help us."

"For all we know - hinder, not help," said Sirius, with the air of saying something incredibly wise. "What's next? She's tagging along behind us down Matilda's passage?"

"It doesn't have to come to that," Remus said, flopping down onto his bed.

"It won't," James said firmly, storming out of the dormitory and slamming the door. Sirius instantly followed. But Peter stared after him for a moment, made a move for the door, then thought better of it and climbed into his own bed and shut the curtains.

Remus sighed loudly and yanked his own curtains shut. His hands were shaking obviously, but he managed well, without anyone watching. All this business with Lily and Paige… he had enough problems as it was.

His stomach churned. Another night. Another moon.

He tucked his arms behind his back and tried to steady his breathing.

His shoulder burned.

 

 

The full moon came and went. It was surprisingly short; it felt like reliving a whole life in seconds. White light, ripping, tearing, scarlet blood. Teeth in his shoulder.

Remus woke up in the hospital wing.

"Good morning, Mr. Lupin!" called Madame Pomfrey from across the ward. Remus didn't even try to shush her. He knew that nobody else would be there besides her; it had to be, at the latest, eight o'clock in the morning - he could just glimpse the clock hanging on the wall opposite him.

Uneasily, he pushed himself up on his elbows. Everything was sore, especially (and oddly) his jaw, but the pain in his shoulder had faded. Remus swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and predictably, Madame Pomfrey rushed to his side.

"I'm fine!" he insisted before she could say anything.

"I wasn't going to say otherwise," she replied, sniffing a little indignantly. Remus gaped at her. "Oh, don't look at me like that, you look awfully stupid," Madame Pomfrey said stiffly - Remus shut his mouth at once and felt himself go red. "Well, as I was going to say, you are perfectly capable of going to classes, if you like. No injuries, I'm happy to say, just a crack in your jaw, I daresay you smacked up against something-"

Remus rubbed his jaw, and was met with a dull throbbing, like a bruise or, perhaps a rug burn.

"But perfectly fit, that is my diagnosis," she finished. "I spoke with the Headmaster earlier this morning, he was just about to leave, so I was glad I caught him-"

"Leave?" Remus sat up a little straighter in his bed. "Wha… where's he going?"

"That's none of your concern," said Madame Pomfrey, even more firmly. "My point being - Professor Dumbledore agrees with my diagnosis. However, if you feel tired or experience any sort of pain, take this." She pulled a vial of chunky purple potion from her apron pocket. "It'll help.

"Thank you!" With that, he seized the potion from her, pulled on his robes, and bolted out of the hospital wing. Dumbledore was leaving… James would be pleased with this development.


	13. The Forbidden Forest

"I am pleased with this development," James said, folding his hands together like he was some sort of distinguished professor.

"And… why, exactly?" asked Peter, raising an eyebrow.

"Because, Pete! Dumbledore's left, hasn't he? That gives us a chance to find out where's he been going lately?"

Peter frowned. "But… if Dumbledore's gone now… doesn't that mean he's out there now? I mean, doesn't that mean he's in the place that we want to explore?"

James frowned along with him. "Good point."

"Oh, bollocks," yawned Sirius, his body slumped over the arm of his favourite overstuffed chair. "He's probably out at the Ministry doing some political bosh."

Remus glanced at Sirius out of the corner of his eye. Peter saw him hesitate. "I don't know, Sirius. If we're caught by Dumbledore, or any other professor-"

"We could be expelled!" squeaked Peter. A fit of nervousness grew in the bottom of his stomach. The thought of Professor Dumbledore catching them sneaking out on the castle grounds after curfew was terrifying. And imagine if McGonagall caught them-!

Sirius was silenced for a few moments, but James soon came to his rescue. He bent over the side of his trunk and pulled out a bunched out ball of silvery material.

"That's why we have this!" he proclaimed, waving it about his head.

Peter had almost forgotten about the Invisibility Cloak.

 

"Pete! "Pete!"

"Ugh… wha…?"

"Wake up, Pete!"

"Yeah, but mind you, keep quiet!"

"What?... Why?" Peter groaned and wiped the sleep out of his eyes. It was Saturday, he knew, and he usually slept in until at least eleven. But judging by the window above James' and Sirius's grinning heads, it wasn't even 6 o'clock. In fact, it was still dark out.

"What time-" Peter began, but before he could finish, James slapped his hand over his mouth and heaved him upright.

"Hey!" Peter's voice was muffled completely, and Sirius immediately shushed him.

"Steady on, mate!"

"What's going-?"

"We're going down Matilda's passage," whispered James, heaving the Invisibility Cloak over his head and shoving them all from behind. "C'mon, let's go."

Peter watched the Cloak flutter over their heads, but was a little assured as he heard Remus say by his ear, "Don't worry, Peter. We're just going to take a peek."

They crept down the stairs to the Common Room. As they approached the Fat Lady's portrait, Peter hesitated again; James hissed in frustration.

"C'mon, Pete!"

"W-what if we get caught?"

"We won't get caught, for God's sake!" snorted James, annoyed.

"We will, if you two don't stop gaggling like some godforsaken geese," Sirius scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Sirius, I'm honestly impressed," said Remus by Peter's ear.

"Thank you."

"Shut up!" said James, nudging the portrait open.

The Fat Lady was snoring soundly. Peter was suddenly glad that she was such a heavy sleeper.

"This way," said James hoarsely, prodding Peter's back.

"We know which way it is!" snapped Sirius.

"Stop it," interjected Remus. His pale complexion looked eerie against the silvery fabric of the Invisibility Cloak. "Both of you, just shut your mouths."

Peter was surprised to see that they obeyed. Their journey down to Matilda's passage was silent and heart-pounding, pausing for a full minute if the floor creaked or if they thought they heard approaching footsteps. Peter had never felt more stressed in his life; he thought that they would never reach the hall that contained the god-ugly witch.

But, an hour later, after many twists and turn-arounds, they finally found Matilda's passage.

At once, Sirius threw off the Invisibility Cloak and strode up to her. "Hullo," he said confidently, shaking his dark brown hair out of his eyes.

Matilda's smile was reminiscent of Mona Lisa's; Peter had expected her to be asleep.

"What do you want?" Out of the corner, Peter saw Remus frown, and he knew why. Her tone sounded different from when the last time she saw them.

"Thaumatrope," said Sirius, brushing his hair out of his eyes again. He looked expectantly at Matilda, while she stared blankly back.

A minute passed. Then-

"No."

"No?" asked Sirius

"No!" repeated James, shoving his way forward towards Matilda. "That's the password: 'Thaumatrope!' You have to let us in, we've said the password!"

"That is not the password," said Matilda haughtily, looking her nose down at them. "That was never the password; who ever heard of a word that absurd: thaumatrope, it's simply ghastly. Run along, children, I have no time for your foolish pranks."

And with that she turned around and hummed tunelessly.

"Oi!" said James. "OI! We can still see you!"

Matilda ignored him and started to play with her hair.

Remus sighed. "James, this is getting us nowhere."

"What's wrong with her?" Peter wondered, staring at the back of Matilda's head. "She's… different-"

"I'll say!" snorted Sirius, sounding offended. "She's didn't even know who I was!"

James, still fuming, turned around to face the rest of them, the tips of his ears scarlet. "I'll tell you what's up," he muttered, crossing his arms. "Dumbledore's found out we've been following him, so he's put a spell on Matilda. Or changed the password. Or both."

Peter felt a fit of nervousness grow in the pit of his stomach. "But- if he's found out, why hasn't he-"

"Told anyone? I dunno," said James, his frown deepening.

"I don't like not knowing," agreed Sirius, scuffing his shoe on the stone floor.

"I don't think I want to know," said Remus all of a sudden. Peter turned towards him; Remus was clutching the Invisibility Cloak. His grey eyes looked strangely ominous. "Come on, Filch will be about, and we don't want him seeing Sirius, not after that incident with Mrs. Norris and the Droobles."

"How long did it take for him to notice Mrs. Norris was on the ceiling?"

"About five seconds, to be precise, but it took him four hours to figure out how to get her down."

Sirius chortled as they draped themselves with the Invisibility Cloak.

 

James, Peter noticed, was still extremely upset, and decided not to speak to him about Matilda. For the next few days, James threw out not-so-subtle hints that they should return to the passage and interrogate Matilda, but Remus quickly shot him down, saying that if Dumbledore knew they were tracking him, and if he had actually warned Matilda about them trying to follow him through the passage, then Dumbledore would have installed heightened security anyways, and they shouldn't be surprised if they came across Trick Jinxes or armed trolls.

"Shut it!" bellowed James, and retreated behind the curtains of his four-poster. Sirius rolled his eyes and followed. Peter gave Remus a helpless look, while Remus just shrugged and turned another page of his book.

Peter made a point of avoiding James for a time, as James and Sirius spent most of their time with their heads together, whispering over quills and parchment like a couple of teenage witches. He couldn't help wondering what they were doing.

"Dumbledore couldn't know, could he?" he asked Remus nervously one evening in the library.

Remus scowled for a second into his book, which surprised Peter. He'd never seen Remus scowl at a book before. "I don't know, Peter. He could… he's the greatest wizard to ever live, after all. But we've been very careful…. To be honest, I'm still finding it hard to believe that Dumbledore could be doing something as fishy as this - what is he doing in the Forbidden Forest?..." He paused for a very long while, then glanced up at Peter, looking startlingly worried. "You don't think it's anything illegal, do you?"

Peter replied that he didn't know. He understood that Remus was a huge admirer of Dumbledore, though he didn't know why. He pondered this… Remus looked rather forlorn, he thought. He wondered if it had anything to do with Dumbledore. Or… perhaps...

He spoke up. "D'you think-"

He was interrupted by a very loud bang; his view of Remus was abruptly obscured by a teetering mountain of books.

"Remus?" came an anxious voice from behind the quivering mountain.

"Hullo, Lily," replied Remus.

Huffing, Lily plopped down in the seat opposite him and gathered a few books in her arms. "You know, this is nearly impossible! It's hard enough as it is to stay on top of classes-!"

"Er- what's impossible?" Peter broke in.

"She's trying to help us figure out what happened to Paige Vaughan," Remus reminded him.

"Oh, right."

Lily nodded over at Peter, who was very glad to be involved in this secret meeting. "It was a potion; Dorcas is a genius! We had to tell a few fibs to get into the Restricted Section of the library, but-"

"Wait." Remus held up a hand, his brow furrowed. "The Restricted Section? What did you need to go there for?"

"Because," said a new voice, pulling up a chair beside Lily; Peter could only guess that it was Dorcas Meadowes. She had a pale, narrowed face with a short, freckled nose. She also wore little bells on her ears. "We searched the library from top to bottom for hours on end every night for the past week, and we couldn't find a thing - it was hopeless - but then I remembered Professor Slughorn mentioning the Restricted Section one class in October… he said that they had loads of Potions books there!"

"So you went there, snatched a few," Peter deduced. "But how…" His voice faded as Madam Pince, the wizened and wrinkled caretaker of the library passed by them. She eyed the precarious pile stacked on their table, and, for a moment, she hissed and spluttered in protest. Peter lowered his voice. "How did you manage it?"

"Easy," announced the boisterous voice of Marlene McKinnon; she was leaning on the back of Dorcas's chair. "We asked Slughorn."

"And Slughorn let you?" Remus's voice was riddled with disbelief.

"Well-" began Lily.

"Are you kidding? Slughorn adores her," gushed Marlene. "They should get married. All it took was one signature, and it was a cinch."

Remus still looked impressed. "What did you find out?"

"Lily told you, it was a potion," whispered Dorcas, biting her cheek. "I read up on it - there's so many nasty books - I don't understand it! There's a lot of components, easy to find, I think, Hagrid told me he's seen plenty of Fluxweed and Nightshade in the Forbidden Forest… lots of herbology, going by what Lily told me-"

"And we were in the Herbology Greenhouse," muttered Remus.

"You don't think it was administered in the Greenhouse?" Lily looked aghast at the idea, but Dorcas shook her head.

"No, she would have to drink it beforehand - two to three hours before! But if someone snuck it into her drink, I don't know how she wouldn't have noticed… judging by what's in it, it's bound to taste worse than Polyjuice Potion…!"

She stopped, suddenly, and turned white. Peter knew why. Madam Pince was stalking up to their table, hissing like an angry cat.

"Oh, God," said Lily. She sounded more annoyed than frightened.

"What's this?" choked Madam Pince, seizing a particularly fat book atop the pile. Holding it inches away from her square spectacles, she gave a shriek of horror that sent Peter tumbling off his chair onto the floor.

"Steady on!" shouted Marlene.

"Befouled!" Madam Pince screamed; to Peter she sounded like she was gargling marbles. "Beriddled! Bespoiled! Return those at once!" Immediately, she started scooping the books into her arms. Amidst the struggle, Peter managed to glimpse one of the covers of the books: Moste Potente Potions.

"No!" protested Dorcas, wrestling a couple away. "We're not finished!"

"Absolutely disgraceful! Disgusting!" frothed Pince, yanking them away. She looked rather odd, with a mountain of books in her stick-arms, but she managed to stumble away, sagging under the weight of them.

"God," muttered Marlene. "I hate her."

There was a sudden crash: Remus jumped, and Lily yelped, and they all saw Madam Pince rush out the door like she was running a marathon, clutching a few books to her chest. In seconds, she was out the door.

Five mouths dropped open.

"Is she always that strange?"

"She's a natural sprinter, looks like."

"Batty," mouthed Marlene, grinning. "She's as mad as a bat."

"Gone off her rocker," agreed Peter.

Remus leaned into his hands, his elbow almost sliding off the edge of the table. "There's something not right here," he groaned, rubbing his forehead with the other hand. "Not right at all…"

 

Remus first said it in their dormitory.

"I think Paige's incident and Dumbledore disappearing are connected," blurted out Remus.

Peter froze. "How?"

"Think about it," Remus sputtered, "Paige Vaughan acts strangely, Professor Sprout Petrifies her and we don't hear about it again! Couple days later - we see Dumbledore go into the Forbidden Forest, alone. We know he takes a secret passage, it's probably because he doesn't want anyone to see him. Then, today, Dorcas said the potion had ingredients - Nightshade, Fluxweed… - that were in the Forbidden Forest! So…"

"So…" Peter continued. "You're saying that Dumbledore went into the Forest, made a crazy potion, came back, somehow gave it to Paige, then went back into the Forbidden Forest to collect more ingredients for more crazy potion?" He rolled anmEvery Flavour Bean between his fingers. "Uh… I dunno, Remus. Sounds a little…"

"Far-fetched?" asked James, who was laying on his four-poster with his arms behind his head. "I don't think so. Makes perfect sense to me."

"And me," piped up Sirius.

"What?" cried Peter, gagging on an Every Flavour Bean. He hated being the only one defending his ideas. "How-?"

"Oh, it's a good theory," said James to the ceiling. "It just needs solid proof."

"I don't want proof!" said Remus immediately; Peter was quick to notice the worry in his eyes. "I want to prove that he didn't do it!"

"You want to prove that Dumbledore isn't sneaking off to the woods to make potions that are poisoning kids," said Sirius, grinning. "Easy enough."

Remus frowned him. "Sirius. What are you thinking?"

Sirius flashed a smile and winked. "Fancy a visit to Hagrid's?"

 

Peter felt stupid.

"This is really, really easy," he mumbled they all strode down the main hall.

"Too easy," grumbled Remus.

James grinned back at them. "Ah, don't worry about it, Remus. Sometimes it takes a genius to see the obvious."

"Thanks, James," said Sirius.

"You're welcome."

Sirius had thought of something truly ingenious, even if it was the most obvious thing in the world. James had gotten an Invisibility Cloak for Christmas: why not use it? After classes ended, they would simply cover themselves with said Invisibility Cloak, easily slip out the main doors, and make their way down to Hagrid's hut. It was close enough to the Forbidden Forest so that they could head that way effortlessly without Hagrid getting that suspicious.

"This was a really good idea, Sirius," Peter emphasized.

Sirius beamed. "Why, thanks Pete."

Remus snorted as the main doors leading out of Hogwarts came into view.

"Well, someone's jealous," muttered Sirius, rolling his eyes. "You're not the only smart one here, you know."

"Guys!" hissed James, shoving the doors open.

Silently, they slipped past the doors and into the cool spring evening. Even if Filch had been lingering near there, he wouldn't have noticed; they were too quiet. Peter felt unnaturally proud of himself. Usually he had the grace of a bull in a china shop.

In fact, everything went smoothly for the next half-hour.

Hagrid was cheerful and welcoming. With a jolly, "Why, hullo there!" as he opened the door of his hut, he reminded Peter of a less portly, but slightly more dangerous-looking Santa Claus. Peter liked him well enough, but he couldn't help but be a bit intimidated. The only one who looked completely comfortable was Sirius, who immediately seated himself between the huge Groundskeeper and his enormous boarhound, a wolf-like creature Hagrid called "Fang." Peter made sure to keep as far away from it as possible.

Hagrid was as talkative as he was friendly, so they were there for a while, listening to him ramble on about odds and ends while trying to keep Fang's drooling head off of them at all times.

"So, Hagrid!" Sirius finally said, somehow managing to chew and swallow a brick-like biscuit Hagrid had given him. "We're thinking of exploring the Forbidden Forest sometime. What paths do you recommend we take?"

Remus choked a little; Peter shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He hadn't expected Sirius to be this blunt.

Hagrid's smile faltered a little. "The forest, eh? Y'know, Professor Dumbledore made it clear t'me that nobody's supposed to go in there… not even meself, and that's me own job, y'see…"

"Yes, well-" James interrupted, "Sirius put it wrong, Hagrid, he's a bit hard of hearing-"

"What?" Sirius asked, frowning.

"Proves my point," said James briskly. Hagrid raised an eyebrow. "You see, Hagrid, Professor Dumbledore took a trip into the forest recently, and he… ah…"

"He what?" asked Hagrid, leaning forward.

"He… ah… lost something! He lost something important."

"Ah!" grunted Hagrid, shifting his generous weight in his chair. "Not something too important I hope."

"Not that important," James assured him. "Just a thaumatrope."

James was good. Peter bit his lip as Hagrid scratched his beard thoughtfully. "Hmph. I dunno wot that is, but it sounds pretty important."

Sirius nodded earnestly. "It is. And it's really important to Professor Dumbledore as well… he forgot it, you see, the other day, when he went into the forest to speak to the… the…

"Unicorns?" suggested Peter.

"Centaurs," said Remus confidently. "Professor Dumbledore wanted to speak to the centaurs about their stand on the law recently passed by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and how it categorized their sort as having 'near-human' intelligence-"

"I expect so!" rumbled Hagrid angrily, rising from him chair. "'Near-human' intelligence - I've never heard of such bosh!"

Peter began to catch on. "Dumbledore must agree with you… a-and that's why he left s-so all of a sudden; he wanted to appeal to the Ministry-"

"On behalf of the centaurs," Remus finished. James and Sirius gaped at him. "Please let us go, Hagrid. We'll be in and out in a flash, we promise."

Hagrid narrowed his beetle-black eyes at them. "Promise, eh?"

They all nodded; Peter swallowed as a nervous silence overtook the room. Hagrid squinted harder.

"A'right then!" he boomed, seizing all eight of their hands in a handshake that nearly wrenched their arms off. "A promise it is! But just remember -" He lowered his voice. "It can get awful scary in that forest, especially fer people yer size… take Fang, a'right? He's a ruddy coward, but he'll scare a great lot o'them creatures away, I reckon."

"Alright," said Sirus, dragging Fang over to the door with them. "Thanks, Hagrid. We'll be back before you know it."

"Be careful, a'right?" called Hagrid.

"We will!" James yelled, sprinting towards the forest, with Sirius and Fang in hot pursuit.

 

"Can I ask one thing? Where'd you learn all that Ministry mumbo-jumbo?"

"My dad works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. He talks about his job often. I find it interesting."

"If by interesting, you mean mind - bogglingly boring, then yes, I quite agree."

"Well, I think our cover story was very well-put together, if I say so myself."

"I'd say so."

"Me too."

"Yes," sighed Remus. "We are all disturbingly good liars."

"Remus, you didn't even lie," James yawned, lifting his already-lit wand aloft. "You just spouted some nonsense about some Department in Controlling Dangerous Animals-"

"The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, you mean? And I did lie, I said Dumbledore was talking to centaurs in the Forbidden Forest."

Peter glanced overheard, expecting to see silhouette of leafy branches, but instead was met with an inky blackness - the trees were so thick they completely covered the sky.

"Do you think centaurs even live here?" he gulped, scanning the wood around him. Twisted grey bark dotted with knotholes and -

"Look!" gasped Sirius, dragging Fang towards a nearby tree. This one was strangely marked, with long thin scratches across its already pitted surface. "Claw marks!"

Just the sight of them made Peter tremble. "W-w-what do you reckon made those, S-Sirius?" he stuttered.

"Oh, I dunno Pete," said Sirius casually, turning towards him. "Maybe…" he paused for a moment, before jumping at Peter and yelling, "WEREWOLVES!"

Peter thought he was going to have a heart attack - he yelled almost as loud as Sirius and fell backwards into Remus. Sirius and James broke down laughing.

"Bloody hell… That wasn't funny!" insisted Peter, feeling his face warm up as he stood upright.

"Yeah, it was," chuckled James, wiping away tears.

"But don't worry, Pete!" said Sirius, still rolling around on the ground. "We have Fang to protect us!"

"Fang won't be able to protect you against werewolves," Remus said darkly. Peter saw him in the light of James's wand; he was an unearthly white that was practically translucent. James and Sirius must've seen him too, because they immediately grew silent.

"Let's keep going," muttered Remus, snatching Fang's leash from stared blankly at James and Sirius, who stared blankly back. Then, they all followed, James falling in behind Remus with the light.

The uncomfortable silence remained for a while, broken only a few times by creaking branches and Fang's pants. The only thing Peter could really see was the back of Remus's neck, which was dotted by a few freckles and was as white as a T-shirt.

They kept walking.

"Does anyone actually know where we're going?" asked Sirius. No one answered, so they just kept walking.

"Remus?" asked James quietly. "D...Did something happen to y-"

"My dad knew a fellow," said Remus sharply. "A family friend, that got bitten by a werewolf. My dad told stories. That's it, really."

"Alright," said James gently, using a tone Peter had never heard him use before.

It was another minute before Remus audibly murmured, "And I'm really not fond of them."

"That's okay, Remus," said Peter, jogging a little to stay in pace with Remus's long stride. "I'm not fond of turtlenecks."

Remus, to Peter's surprise, cracked a smile and laughed out loud. "Well, thank God for you anyways, Peter."

"Does anyone actually know where we're going?" demanded Sirius from the back of the group.

"Oomph!" One minute Peter was standing, the next, he had a faceful of dirt and grass.

"Pete!" James was crouching down beside him. "You alright, mate?"

"Ghh… yeah…" muttered Peter, stumbling to his feet. "Just tripped…. Over a tree root, I think…"

James shone his wand down to where Peter had fallen.

"That's not a tree root," Sirius said, snatching it up from the ground. Peter saw it in the wandlight - it was a book. Earthy in color, covered in dirt, worn leather and metal clasps. Sirius blew on the cover.

"Moste Potente Potions!" Peter read excitedly. "Remus!"

"Madam Pince!" gasped Remus. "But why would she-?"

"Unless she and Dumbledore-" Peter started.

"But that would mean…" Remus frowned deeply. "That wouldn't be good. Come on. We must be close then."

"No, no, no, you ninnes," Sirius chided. "What the hell was that all about?"

"Madam Pince!" said Peter, red in the cheeks. "Remus, Lily, Marlene, Dorcas and I were in the library, reading up on different potions that could've been used-"

"To curse Paige," Remus continued. "Dorcas had gotten a lot of books, and Madam Pince got angry, God knows why-"

"And she started taking them away, but then she just - suddenly - grabbed a few and ran out like Satan was chasing her," finished Peter, a little breathless.

James and Sirius just stared at them, but not in awe or amazement. To Peter's surprise, they looked quite angry.

"It didn't occur to you to tell either of us?" James asked furiously.

"Well, we didn't really have time, did we?" shot back Remus.

"Are you kidding me?" said Sirius, eyebrows furrowed. "You had time to talk it over with Evans, I'm guessing-"

"She was there, of course we did-"

"And you two weren't exactly inclusive in your little plots, were you?"

"Oh, excuse me, I don't remember you ever being brave enough, Pete-"

"Stop making excuses, we all know you're keeping something from us-"

"What could I possibly be keeping-"

"I can't believe you wouldn't tell us-"

"Oh, I'm sorry I don't tell you everything I do in every minute of every day!"

"You're just a big- "

Remus had to stop mid-sentence; Fang had pulled away with such force that the leash had slipped from Remus's grasp. The boarhound bounded away, howling, the leash snaking away behind him.

"What? Fang! Come back!" shouted Remus.

"What do you think made him run awa-" James stopped mid-sentence as he turned, and his mouth hung upon. Sweat visibly appeared on Sirius' brow, and Peter suddenly lost the ability to stand.

Five gigantic spiders had convened behind them. Five enormous spiders, disgustingly hairy and alien-looking, clicking and clacking their pinchers and hissing like snakes. Forty red eyes glared into the wandlight, but they didn't move.

"God," Sirius whispered, leaning against a tree for support. "Acromantulas."

"Good! Good!" came five wheezing voices. "You know of us, and we know of you."

James exchanged worried glances with Remus, who was frozen with terror, before stuttering, "Y-y-you do?"

"Yes," said one, advancing a little. Peter hands shook uncontrollably. "Wizards. Good for eating. It is lucky that we found you."

"Yes! Yes!" echoed the other four.

Peter was more than scared, he was terrified. Every inch of his being was screaming, panicking, telling him to abandon everyone and everything and run for his life. But he couldn't. His muscles weren't working. He was too frightened.

"This is all Hagrid's fault," muttered Sirius to himself. But Peter heard, and the Acromantulas must have heard to, because they perked up all together and whispered,

"Hagrid?"

Sirius turned white, but didn't say anything else. The spiders hissed quietly and stamped their legs on the leafy ground, but didn't advance, like Peter had thought they would.

Finally, one of the spiders spoke.

"Fools!" it rasped. "These creatures cannot know Hagrid! If they did, they would know about Aragog!"

"Aragog!" shouted James suddenly. "I know about him!"

The spiders retreated a few feet, still wheezing and hissing with confusion.

"Why are you here?" Two of them asked in unison.

"Hagrid left something here," said James shakily, gesturing to the book under Sirius's arm. "Just a book.. You know… about-"

"Magic," Sirius said weakly.

"Yes," said James. "So, if y-you don't mind, we'll be on our w-w-way now…"

The spiders narrowed their eyes at them. Peter had been holding his breath so long it hurt. Had it worked? Were the Acromantulas actually going to let them go unscathed?

"They know of Hagrid," one of the spiders was saying to its brethren.

"They know of his interest with magic. If we harm them, Aragog will not be pleased."

"What Aragog does not know will not harm him," another croaked.

"We will not disobey Aragog," murmured a third. "Our obedience must be absolute."

After what seemed like hours of whispering, the largest spider advanced towards them. It was even more disgusting up close: it smelled like dead rats and rotting flesh. Peter suddenly felt faint.

"We will release you," it gasped. "But do not set foot in our territory again. Otherwise, you will have to answer to Aragog."

"Fair enough," said James, some of his old confidence returning to him.

"Do not test our-" The spider froze, mere inches away from them. (Peter could have reached out and grabbed hold of one of their legs, though his fingers wouldn't have been able to go all the way around.) Its eyes rolled around in its ugly head before it hissed, "It is here."

The spiders erupted in a panic, and the hissing seemed to come from all sides; they stamped their feet like they were going to charge, and white foam bubbled from their mouths as they wailed angrily, "It is here! It is here!"

They made a racket so stupendous that Peter was forced to clamp his hands over his ears.

"What did you do?" shouted Sirius to James.

"Have you come to kill us, monster?" The spiders wheezed, clicking and clacking their pinches. "The moon is not yet full!"

"What?" screamed Peter.

"God!" cried James, stuffing his fingers in his ears. "What happened? What did we do?"

The spiders made a high-pitched hissing, whistling noise through their pinchers, a sound Peter guessed was supposed to be laughter. "We hear your screams!" they rasped together loudly. "We hear your pain, monster-"

"Where is it?" yelled Sirius, spinning around in a circle. "Where's the monster?"

"LUMOS MAXIMA!" shouted someone behind them; Peter turned, it was Remus, pale and glassy-eyed, holding out his hand in front of him and clutching it like a lifeline-

And Peter was blinded. A circle of the brightest light Peter had ever seen shot out of it like a beacon and washed over them all - the spiders shrieked and stamped and covered their eyes - Peter felt like his eyes were going to burn out of their sockets-

Then it was over. Peter opened his eyes. James and Sirius were rubbing their eyes and blinking, and the Acromantulas were hissing and grunting, trying to get used to the darkness again.

There was a hand on Peter's shoulder. Peter yelped and shirked away-

"Remus!" he choked.

"We need to run," Remus instructed him shakily, hoisting Peter to his feet. James and Sirius looked on, as the spiders shook their enormous heads and wheezed angrily at the four of them, pinchers opening to reveal a gaping, frothing maw with pointed fangs.

"Remus…" started Sirius, stumbling to his feet.

"Run," gasped Remus, stowing his wand in his sweatshirt. "For God's sake, run!"

**Author's Note:**

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> Love all of you!!! Thanks for reading!!!


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